Chapter 4 - The Room Behind the Wall
Gabriel had not entered his childhood home in fifteen years.
The narrow Hell’s Kitchen townhouse looked abandoned from the street.
His father had refused to sell it even after the Moretti family became wealthy.
Gabriel had never understood why.
Now he did.
Sarah stood beside him on the sidewalk.
“This is where you grew up?”
“Yes.”
“It’s smaller than I expected.”
“I was smaller then.”
She glanced at him.
“That was almost a joke.”
“Don’t spread it around.”
For the first time since the restaurant, Sarah smiled.
It lasted only a second.
But Gabriel noticed.
Inside, dust covered everything.
They followed Rebecca’s instructions to the basement.
The brass key opened an antique utility cabinet.
Nothing happened.
Sarah frowned.
“Maybe she remembered wrong.”
Gabriel examined the lock.
Then he noticed scratches around the frame.
He pulled.
The entire cabinet swung forward.
Behind it was a steel door.
Sarah stared.
“You had a secret room in your childhood basement?”
“Apparently my family had communication problems.”
The room beyond contained filing cabinets, photographs, ledgers, and an old safe.
On the wall hung a photograph of two younger men.
Gabriel’s father, Antonio Moretti.
Nathaniel Collins.
They had their arms around each other.
Brothers in everything but blood.
Sarah touched the photograph.
“I’ve never seen him this young.”
Gabriel had never seen his father smile like that.
They opened the safe.
Inside were contracts establishing that Nathaniel had financed Antonio’s first legitimate shipping company.
Not crime.
Legitimate business.
Gabriel continued reading.
The original Moretti organization had apparently been intended as a pathway out of street crime.
Nathaniel supplied capital.
Antonio supplied dock connections and labor.
Together they built a transportation network.
Then Arthur Harrington entered the partnership.
And everything changed.
A final ledger documented money diverted through Harrington-controlled accounts.
Hundreds of millions.
Sarah found a sealed letter.
Her name was written across it.
She opened it with trembling fingers.
Nathaniel had written it weeks before his death.
He explained that he had discovered Arthur stealing from Collins Atlantic and using Antonio Moretti’s criminal contacts as cover.
Nathaniel planned to remove Arthur from the company.
He never lived long enough.
Sarah lowered the letter.
“He knew.”
Gabriel read the final paragraph.
“If anything happens to me, Antonio will protect Rebecca and Sarah.”
Gabriel stared at his father’s name.
Antonio died seven months after Nathaniel.
Two deaths.
Two supposed accidents.
One beneficiary.
Arthur Harrington.
Gabriel’s phone rang.
Marco.
“Boss, you need to see the news.”
Within minutes, every television network was carrying footage from the restaurant.
But the video had been edited.
It showed Sarah spilling champagne.
Victoria screaming.
Gabriel approaching Sarah.
Then it cut.
A headline filled the screen:
MORETTI MISTRESS LINKED TO HARRINGTON ENGAGEMENT COLLAPSE.
Sarah stared.
“Mistress?”
Another photograph appeared.
Gabriel kneeling beside her.
The angle made the moment appear intimate.
Victoria stood behind them.
Sarah’s stomach turned.
“She did this.”
Gabriel’s phone vibrated.
Victoria.
He answered.
“You have thirty seconds.”
Her voice was calm.
“You embarrassed me.”
“You assaulted someone.”
“She is nobody.”
Gabriel looked at Sarah.
“No. That was your mistake.”
Victoria laughed.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“My father has spent twelve years preparing for Sarah Collins.”
Gabriel’s expression changed.
Victoria continued.
“If she attempts to claim the trust, every newspaper in America will receive evidence proving her mother blackmailed Nathaniel Collins.”
Sarah heard enough to understand.
“That’s a lie.”
Victoria heard her.
“Oh, Sarah. You poor little thing.”
Gabriel’s grip tightened around the phone.
“Careful.”
“You want careful?”
Victoria’s voice sharpened.
“Return my father’s financing arrangements, publicly apologize to me, and make the waitress disappear.”
Gabriel became still.
“Disappear?”
“From New York. I don’t care where.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You’ll lose your ports. Your legitimate companies. Your political protection.”
She paused.
“And Sarah will lose her mother.”
Gabriel’s voice dropped.
“Explain that last sentence.”
Victoria disconnected.
Sarah was already dialing the care facility.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
They drove to Queens.
Sarah ran through the entrance.
Her mother’s room was empty.
The bed had been stripped.
A nurse intercepted her.
“Miss Collins?”
“Where is my mother?”
The nurse looked confused.
“Your uncle signed her out twenty minutes ago.”
“I don’t have an uncle.”
Gabriel’s expression darkened.
Security footage showed two men wheeling Rebecca through a side exit.
Sarah watched the screen.
Her hands began shaking.
“This happened because I stayed with you.”
Gabriel did not defend himself.
“Yes.”
She turned on him.
“I should never have gone to that restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“I should never have met you.”
Gabriel’s eyes held hers.
“Probably.”
Her anger broke.
“Then do something!”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“I will.”
There was something frighteningly calm in his voice.
“What?”
“For twelve years Arthur Harrington believed he was fighting dead men and frightened women.”
Gabriel buttoned his jacket.
“He isn’t anymore.”
Outside, Marco waited beside the car.
Gabriel gave one order.
“Find Rebecca.”
Then Sarah caught his arm.
“No killing.”
He looked down at her hand.
“You don’t know what these people are capable of.”
“I know exactly what they’re capable of.”
Her eyes were wet.
“That’s why I’m asking you not to become them.”
Gabriel stared at her.
No one had ever asked him to be better as though she believed he could.
Finally he nodded.
“I’ll bring your mother home.”
His phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number contained a photograph.
Rebecca was tied to a chair.
Behind her stood Arthur Harrington.
May you like
Beneath the photograph were four words.
BRING SARAH. COME ALONE.
