Chapter 6 - Midnight at Pier Nine
Luca was not in the photograph's warehouse anymore.
Giana knew that before she left the cottage.
Preston Stahl was cruel.
He was not stupid.
So she did not bring the original ledger.
She brought copies.
Hundreds of them.
Camille had memorized her father's encryption phrase years earlier without realizing what it unlocked.
Combined with Antonio Gallo's ledger, the files exposed payments, shell corporations, compromised officials, illegal shipping records, and decades of financial connections.
Eleanor wanted federal agents involved.
Giana agreed.
On one condition.
Nobody would stop her from going to Pier Nine.
“You just had a baby.”
“I'm aware.”
“You were shot at yesterday.”
“Also aware.”
“You are not an action hero, Giana.”
“No. I'm a baker.”
Camille looked at the printer covering Eleanor's dining table with copies.
“A terrifying baker.”
At 11:53 p.m., Giana drove onto the pier.
She wore a wire.
Agents watched from several blocks away.
Eleanor had Antonio.
Giana had never been more frightened.
She parked.
Preston Stahl emerged from a warehouse.
He looked disappointingly ordinary.
Mid-fifties.
Expensive shirt.
No tie.
Gray hair.
A man who could have been waiting to discuss commercial real estate.
“Mrs. Fontana.”
“Gallo.”
He smiled.
“I heard about that.”
“Where's Luca?”
“Your husband has become inconveniently difficult to hold.”
A door opened.
Two men dragged Luca forward.
His hands were bound.
His face was bruised.
But his eyes—
They found Giana.
Everything inside him changed.
“No.”
His voice was hoarse.
“Giana, leave.”
Stahl smiled.
“Romantic.”
Giana placed a leather bag on the pavement.
“The ledger.”
“Kick it over.”
“Luca first.”
“You have inherited your father's terrible negotiating instincts.”
“You murdered him.”
“Technically, my father arranged that.”
Luca went still.
Giana heard Eleanor's voice through the tiny receiver hidden beneath her hair.
We have the admission. Keep him talking.
Giana swallowed.
“My father discovered your accounts.”
“Your father believed morality was more important than survival.”
“He believed you belonged in prison.”
“And where did that belief put him?”
Luca lunged.
A guard struck him.
“Stop!”
Giana's voice cracked.
Stahl watched her.
“Interesting. After he abandoned you, you still came.”
Luca looked at her.
The pain in his expression had nothing to do with his injuries.
“He didn't abandon me.”
The words surprised even Giana.
Stahl laughed.
“I saw the footage.”
“So did I.”
She kept her eyes on Luca.
“He made a choice I may never forgive. That's different.”
Luca closed his eyes briefly.
Stahl extended his hand.
“Ledger.”
Giana kicked the bag.
One of his men retrieved it.
Opened it.
Paper.
Stahl's expression changed.
“What is this?”
“Insurance.”
He looked at the pages.
Then at her.
“Where's the original?”
“Somewhere you will never find.”
He drew a gun.
Luca moved.
Giana did not.
“Shoot me and everything publishes.”
Stahl smiled.
“You think I believe that?”
“Check your phone.”
He did.
Messages were arriving.
News organizations.
Federal subpoenas.
Account freezes.
His smile disappeared.
Camille had triggered the release three minutes earlier.
The ledger was no longer one object.
It was everywhere.
Stahl raised the gun.
Luca slammed his shoulder into the man beside him.
Gunfire erupted.
Giana dropped.
Agents rushed from both ends of the pier.
Stahl fired.
Luca threw himself over Giana.
A bullet struck concrete inches from them.
Then Stahl screamed.
An agent had hit his shoulder.
His gun fell.
Within seconds, he was surrounded.
Giana remained beneath Luca.
Neither moved.
His breathing was rough against her hair.
“You shouldn't be here.”
She almost laughed.
“That's your opening line?”
He pushed himself up.
His hands were still bound.
His eyes searched her face.
Then dropped to her stomach.
The absence registered.
“Our son?”
“Safe.”
Luca exhaled.
“Good.”
He did not ask where.
That mattered.
Agents cut his restraints.
Giana stood.
For the first time since the fire, they faced each other without smoke between them.
Luca looked thinner.
Older.
“I am sorry.”
She crossed her arms.
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
“That could take several hours.”
“I have time.”
“I don't.”
He nodded.
“Then I won't ask for it.”
She looked at him.
That was not the Luca she had left.
The old Luca would have negotiated.
Commanded.
Promised.
This man simply stood there.
“I sent Camille away because Stahl's men were trying to take her alive,” he said. “Marco told me another extraction team was reaching you. I thought I had seconds to remove the person Stahl needed most.”
“You looked at me.”
“I know.”
“I was bleeding.”
“I know.”
“And you left.”
His eyes reddened.
“Yes.”
No excuse.
That hurt more.
And healed something too.
“I intended to come back.”
“But you didn't.”
“No.”
Silence settled between them.
Luca looked toward the water.
“I spent my whole life believing intentions mattered if the strategy was right.”
He looked back.
“They don't.”
Giana's throat tightened.
“You don't get to become wise after ruining everything.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“All right.”
For one absurd second, she nearly smiled.
Then Marco approached.
“Luca.”
His face was grim.
“Vittorio is gone.”
Luca frowned.
“Gone where?”
“He emptied two accounts and left the country.”
Giana looked at him.
Stahl had been arrested.
But the man who had protected the secret behind her father's death was still free.
Then Luca's phone rang.
Vittorio.
Luca answered.
His uncle spoke one sentence.
Luca's face went pale.
The call ended.
“What?”
Giana asked.
May you like
Luca looked at her.
“He knows Antonio was born.”
