Chapter 5 - The Woman in the Basement
Vincent had vanished.
No cameras showed him leaving.
No guards had seen him.
He had simply disappeared.
And I knew why.
He was going to find Julian.
I took Grace and Hannah to a safe house in Connecticut.
For the first time since this nightmare began, we had twelve hours of peace.
Then Hannah found the photograph.
It had been hidden inside Grace's diaper bag.
A picture of Julian standing beside a woman.
The woman was young.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
And around her neck was the same Saint Christopher medal.
On the back:
Sofia Caruso — 1998.
Hannah stared.
“Do you know her?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
But something about her face bothered me.
She looked familiar.
I called my mother's former housekeeper.
She cried when she heard the name.
“Sofia.”
“Who was she?”
“Your father's daughter.”
I froze.
“My sister?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't I know?”
“She was sent away.”
“By whom?”
“Your father.”
“Why?”
“She was born with a heart condition.”
I looked at Grace.
“What happened to her?”
The housekeeper hesitated.
“She died.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
But the photograph had been taken recently.
I knew it.
The woman in the picture wasn't dead.
I found her.
She was living under the name Sarah Cole.
She worked at a small bookstore in Queens.
When I entered, she looked up.
Her eyes widened.
“Marco?”
I stared.
“You know me.”
She slowly closed the book in her hands.
“Julian told me you'd come.”
I reached for my weapon.
“Where is he?”
“Alive.”
“Where?”
“He's trying to stop Gabriel.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel wants Grace.”
“Why?”
Sarah looked toward the street.
“Because Grace isn't just Julian's daughter.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“She carries something Gabriel needs.”
“The ledger?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“She carries a genetic marker.”
I stared at her.
“For what?”
“A disease.”
“What?”
“Gabriel is dying.”
Silence.
“He needs a bone marrow match.”
I laughed.
“You're telling me he wants a baby because she's medically useful?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Not just a match.”
She whispered:
“She is his granddaughter.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Gabriel had a son.”
“Who?”
Sarah looked at me.
“Julian.”
Everything stopped.
Julian was Gabriel's son.
My half-brother.
Which meant Grace was Gabriel's granddaughter.
And the entire family tree had been built on lies.
“Where is Julian?”
Sarah handed me a key.
“Below the old Rossi warehouse.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel imprisoned him there.”
I rushed out.
We reached the warehouse after midnight.
The basement door was locked.
The key opened it.
I found Julian chained to a pipe.
He looked up.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered:
“Marco.”
I crossed the room.
I grabbed him.
He was real.
Alive.
My brother.
He laughed through tears.
“You got old.”
I punched his shoulder.
“You bastard.”
He smiled.
Then I hugged him.
“I buried you.”
“I know.”
“I killed men looking for your killers.”
“I know.”
“You should have come home.”
“I couldn't.”
“Why?”
He looked toward Grace.
“Because Gabriel threatened to kill her.”
Hannah stepped forward.
“He knows about her?”
“He always knew.”
Julian's face became serious.
“He arranged the crash.”
I froze.
“You survived?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Vincent pulled me from the car.”
I stared.
“Then who was in the vehicle?”
Julian looked away.
“A man Gabriel had already killed.”
My stomach turned.
“Why did you let me think you were dead?”
“Because Gabriel was watching you.”
Julian grabbed my arm.
“If I came home, he'd follow.”
A sound echoed above us.
Footsteps.
Julian's face changed.
“He found us.”
The basement lights went out.
A voice came through the darkness.
“Hello, boys.”
Gabriel.
May you like
He laughed.
“You've finally brought the whole family together.”
