Chapter 5 - The Man Beside the ThroneVivian wanted to believe the letter was wrong.
Matteo had been Lorenzo's closest friend since adolescence.
He had stood beside Lorenzo at their wedding.
He had once driven Vivian to a hospital at three in the morning when Lorenzo was trapped in Boston.
He remembered staff birthdays.
He carried dog treats for the old German shepherds guarding the estate.
Nothing about him resembled a traitor.
That, Vivian realized, was exactly what made him dangerous.
Her father's letter was dated twenty-two years earlier.
Carlo's courier is Matteo DeLuca's father, Vittorio. The boy may know nothing, but if anything happens to me, never trust that family blindly.
Vivian exhaled.
“His father.”
Elena nodded.
“Not Matteo.”
But the distinction offered little comfort.
Vittorio DeLuca had died twelve years earlier.
Had Matteo inherited his father's allegiance?
Vivian reached for Lorenzo's emergency phone.
Then stopped.
If Matteo controlled Lorenzo's security, calling might reveal their location.
“We go ourselves.”
Elena frowned.
“To Lorenzo?”
“Yes.”
They never reached him.
Outside the bank, a black SUV pulled beside the curb.
Vivian recognized the driver.
A Falcone guard.
“Mrs. Falcone, Mr. DeLuca sent us.”
Every instinct screamed.
She stepped backward.
The rear door opened.
Carlo Falcone sat inside.
“Hello, Vivian.”
Elena reached into her purse.
A second man seized her.
Vivian screamed.
Carlo smiled.
“Please don't make this theatrical.”
Two hours later, Lorenzo received a photograph.
Vivian was tied to a chair.
A hand rested over her shoulder.
Carlo's.
Below it was a message.
Bring the ledger. Come alone.
Lorenzo stared at Matteo.
“How does he know we have it?”
Matteo's expression hardened.
“We don't.”
“He thinks we do.”
Matteo began issuing orders.
Lorenzo suddenly remembered the photograph from Anthony Bellini's file.
Vittorio DeLuca.
Matteo's father.
“Where was your father the night Bellini died?”
Matteo stopped.
The room became silent.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Matteo's eyes narrowed.
“I was seventeen.”
“That wasn't my question.”
A long silence.
Then Matteo removed his pistol.
Lorenzo's men immediately drew theirs.
Matteo placed his weapon on the table.
“My father worked for Carlo.”
Lorenzo's face became stone.
“You knew?”
“I found out years later.”
“And you never told me.”
“My father confessed while dying.”
Lorenzo grabbed Matteo by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
“You let Vivian live beside a man who murdered her father.”
“I spent twelve years gathering evidence!”
“You lied to me!”
“Yes!”
Matteo shoved him back.
“Because the minute you knew, you'd do exactly what you're doing now—charge through the front door and get everyone killed!”
Lorenzo stared at him.
Matteo lowered his voice.
“My father helped Carlo stop Bellini's car. But he didn't know Carlo planned to kill him. He spent the rest of his life trying to make it right.”
“By doing what?”
“Protecting Vivian.”
Lorenzo froze.
Matteo continued.
“Who do you think arranged Rosa's job at your estate? Who kept Carlo's people outside your inner security? Who convinced your father to marry Vivian into the family?”
Lorenzo's anger shifted into confusion.
“My father said it was his idea.”
“Salvatore was protecting me.”
Matteo picked up the photograph Carlo had sent.
“Carlo didn't take Vivian because he wants money. He wants the evidence Bellini left behind.”
“Then we give it to him.”
“We don't have it.”
Lorenzo looked toward the door.
“But Vivian does.”
At the abandoned shipping terminal where Carlo held her, Vivian was discovering the same truth.
Carlo placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Your father was very stubborn.”
Vivian looked at him with disgust.
“You murdered him.”
“He made a choice.”
“You cut his brakes.”
Carlo smiled.
“So Elena told you.”
“My father told me.”
That wiped away the smile.
Vivian continued.
“He left everything.”
Carlo leaned closer.
“Where?”
“Somewhere you'll never find.”
Carlo slapped the table beside her head.
Vivian flinched but refused to look away.
“You're carrying Lorenzo's child.”
Her blood froze.
“How do you know?”
“Nothing happens inside my family without reaching me.”
Carlo smiled.
“And now I have two Falcone heirs for the price of one.”
Vivian understood.
He did not intend to release her.
Even if she surrendered the evidence.
Across the city, Lorenzo loaded a pistol.
Matteo entered.
“We located them.”
“Where?”
“Red Hook.”
Lorenzo moved toward the door.
Matteo caught his arm.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“The FBI just raided Carlo's Manhattan club.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“We didn't give them anything.”
“No.”
Matteo held up his phone.
“Vivian did.”
At the bank, before leaving, Vivian had quietly instructed the manager to send copies of Anthony Bellini's evidence to federal investigators if she failed to return within ninety minutes.
Lorenzo stared at the message.
Then, despite everything, almost smiled.
His wife had done what generations of Falcone men had failed to do.
She had outplayed Carlo before he even captured her.
Then an explosion shook the Brooklyn waterfront.
Lorenzo's smile disappeared.
May you like
A column of smoke rose over Red Hook.
Exactly where Vivian was being held.
Related Stories
