Chapter 7 - THE BETRAYAL INSIDE THE HOUSE
Dominic looked from the photograph to Frank.
Frank did not reach for his gun.
That probably saved his life.
Two guards appeared behind Dominic.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Frank slowly raised them.
Norah stood beside Salvatore’s wheelchair.
“Dominic.”
“Stay back.”
Frank’s face had gone pale.
“I can explain.”
Dominic laughed once.
“That phrase has never improved anything.”
“The photo is real.”
“Excellent beginning.”
“But not what you think.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Victor and Dr. Pierce were drugging my father.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
Frank closed his eyes briefly.
“Yes.”
Dominic punched him.
Frank hit the wall.
Norah shouted, “Dominic!”
Frank did not fight back.
Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Dominic grabbed his jacket.
“You knew?”
“I found out three weeks ago.”
“And said nothing?”
“I needed proof.”
“My father could have died.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
Dominic raised his fist again.
Salvatore struck the armrest violently.
Everyone stopped.
Norah brought the communication board.
It took several minutes.
FRANK HELPED.
Dominic stared.
“What?”
Yes.
Frank wiped blood from his mouth.
“Your father caught me checking Victor’s accounts.”
Dominic turned.
“You were investigating him?”
“For Salvatore.”
“Without telling me.”
“Your father didn’t trust your judgment.”
That hurt.
Everyone saw it.
Frank continued quickly.
“Not because he thought you were weak. Because Victor helped raise you. Salvatore knew you wouldn’t believe accusations without evidence.”
Norah looked toward Salvatore.
“Is that true?”
Yes.
Dominic’s anger became quieter.
More dangerous.
“Why was Pierce photographed with you?”
“I met him secretly.”
“Why?”
“He wanted out.”
Frank looked toward the phone.
“Victor had been paying him to increase your father’s sedatives. Pierce agreed at first because Victor told him it was to control violent episodes.”
Norah shook her head.
“That dosage was medically indefensible.”
“Pierce realized that.”
“When?”
“After Salvatore nearly stopped breathing six weeks ago.”
Dominic looked toward his father.
Nobody had told him about that.
Frank continued.
“Pierce started keeping records.”
“And Victor killed him.”
“Probably.”
Norah studied the photo.
Something bothered her.
“Who took this?”
Frank looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
“Pierce sent a photo showing you with Victor, but Victor isn’t meeting you.”
She zoomed in.
They were in a restaurant.
Victor sat several tables behind Frank.
Different conversation.
Different direction.
“This could be misleading on purpose.”
Dominic took the phone.
Frank nodded.
“Victor wanted you to think I betrayed you.”
Dominic released him.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But permission to remain breathing.
They spent the rest of the night reconstructing Victor’s plan.
The stolen money was only part of it.
Victor had been buying loyalty.
Guards.
Drivers.
Accountants.
Politicians.
Enough people to weaken Dominic from inside.
Salvatore’s stroke had accelerated Victor’s timeline.
Then something emerged that none of them expected.
The stroke itself might not have been natural.
Norah read Pierce’s private notes.
Three days before Salvatore collapsed, Victor had ordered a medication added to his regimen.
A drug that increased bleeding risk.
Combined with Salvatore’s existing anticoagulant, it could have contributed to the cerebral hemorrhage.
Dominic sat perfectly still.
“He caused the stroke.”
Norah chose her words carefully.
“We can’t prove direct causation from this alone.”
“But it’s possible.”
“Yes.”
Salvatore looked toward the window.
For once, anger did not appear in his face.
Only exhaustion.
Norah touched his shoulder.
He looked old.
Not powerful.
Not monstrous.
Just old.
At breakfast, Victor was gone.
His rooms had been emptied.
One SUV was missing.
So were two guards.
Dominic cursed.
Frank checked security.
“He left thirty-seven minutes ago.”
“Track the vehicle.”
“It’s already disabled.”
Dominic smiled without humor.
“Of course.”
Then Norah’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A woman cried on the other end.
“Norah?”
Norah stood.
“Aunt Kathleen?”
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice shook.
“There are men here.”
Dominic’s head snapped toward her.
A different voice took the phone.
Victor.
“Good morning.”
Norah’s blood went cold.
“You touch her—”
“I have no interest in your aunt.”
He sounded almost bored.
“I need a trade.”
Dominic took the phone.
“What do you want?”
Victor chuckled.
“Dominic.”
“What do you want?”
“The ledger.”
“No.”
“And Salvatore.”
Everyone froze.
Victor continued.
“I want the old man delivered to the St. Bartholomew warehouse by six tonight.”
“You’re insane.”
“No. Your father still owns controlling interests I need transferred.”
“He can’t legally sign anything in his condition.”
“Oh, I think the right witnesses can solve that.”
Norah whispered, “He wants to force him.”
Victor heard.
“Miss Gallagher.”
His voice softened.
“I should thank you.”
“For what?”
“You woke him up.”
Norah looked at Salvatore.
Victor continued.
“I spent months making sure he remained too foggy to interfere.”
Norah’s hand tightened around the phone.
“You poisoned him.”
“I managed a problem.”
“You almost killed him.”
“He has killed far more men than I ever will.”
There was bitterness now.
Real bitterness.
“This family treats Salvatore like a king. Dominic like a prince. Do you know what I was?”
No one answered.
“The dog.”
Victor laughed.
“The loyal dog who cleaned the blood from the floor.”
Dominic said, “This is about jealousy?”
“This is about ownership.”
Victor’s voice hardened.
“I built half of what carries the Moretti name.”
“You stole from it.”
“I collected what I was owed.”
Aunt Kathleen cried somewhere behind him.
Norah closed her eyes.
Victor spoke again.
“Six o’clock.”
The line disconnected.
Dominic immediately began issuing orders.
Norah caught his arm.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“My aunt is there.”
“I know.”
“You’re planning something.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
Her anger flared.
“You do not get to shut me out.”
“You are not coming.”
“Dominic—”
“You are my niece.”
There it was.
The word still sounded absurd.
Norah stepped closer.
“And she is my aunt.”
“I will get her back.”
“You cannot promise that.”
His face softened.
“I can promise I’ll try.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“It’s what I have.”
For several seconds they looked at each other.
Then Salvatore hit the table.
Norah brought the board.
NO TRADE.
Dominic crouched beside him.
“He’ll kill Kathleen.”
Salvatore blinked.
Then spelled:
VICTOR WANTS ME.
Dominic nodded.
“Yes.”
Salvatore continued.
GIVE HIM ME.
“No.”
Salvatore glared.
Dominic’s voice broke unexpectedly.
“I said no.”
For the first time, Norah saw something pass between father and son that looked almost like love.
Salvatore spelled:
MY WAR.
MY DEBT.
Dominic shook his head.
“No.”
Salvatore’s eye filled.
SON.
Norah swallowed.
Salvatore continued.
LET ME FIX ONE THING.
Dominic turned away.
His shoulders rose with one deep breath.
Then another.
Norah understood.
An old man who had spent a lifetime creating fear was asking for one chance to create safety instead.
Not redemption.
Redemption was too clean a word.
Maybe responsibility.
Maybe love, finally spoken correctly.
Dominic faced him.
“We do it together.”
Salvatore blinked.
Yes.
At 5:52 that evening, a black SUV approached the abandoned St. Bartholomew warehouse.
Salvatore sat inside.
Dominic drove.
Norah sat beside him.
Despite being ordered not to come.
Dominic had argued for twelve straight minutes.
Norah had won by getting into the car and refusing to get out.
As the warehouse doors appeared ahead, Dominic looked at her.
“If this goes wrong—”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His voice softened.
“You changed this family the moment you walked into that house.”
Norah looked at him.
He gave a faint smile.
“Actually, the moment you screamed basta.”
Despite everything, she smiled.
Then the warehouse doors opened.
Victor stood inside.
A gun pressed against Kathleen’s head.
And beside him stood a man Dominic had believed dead for eleven years.
May you like
His older brother.
Marco Moretti.
