Chapter 8 - THE MOTHER MATTEO UNDERESTIMATED
Pier Forty-Seven looked abandoned at midnight.
Rain hammered the shipping containers.
Luca arrived with the drive.
I arrived hidden inside Dante’s second vehicle.
That part had not been Luca’s plan.
Matteo stood beneath a warehouse light with Emma beside him.
My daughter was crying.
But alive.
Victor Sloane stood several feet away.
So did twenty armed men.
Luca walked forward alone.
“Release her.”
Matteo smiled.
“My nephew. Always dramatic.”
“The drive.”
“First the girl.”
Matteo laughed.
“You really are Salvatore’s son.”
From my hiding place, I watched Sloane.
Something was wrong.
He wasn’t standing with Matteo.
He was afraid of him.
Then Sloane suddenly said, “This wasn’t the agreement.”
Matteo turned.
“No?”
“You said no children.”
Matteo shot him.
Emma screamed.
Everything exploded.
Luca’s men opened fire from concealed positions.
Dante pulled me behind a container.
“You stay here!”
Absolutely not.
I saw Emma running.
I ran too.
My ankle screamed.
I didn’t care.
“Mommy!”
I reached her.
Then Matteo stepped between us.
Gun raised.
“Stop.”
I stopped.
Emma sobbed behind him.
Matteo looked almost disappointed.
“Katherine was smarter than this.”
“Leave my daughter out of it.”
“She was never out of it.”
“You killed my father.”
“Yes.”
The admission came easily.
“You killed Salvatore.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because weak men were destroying everything our family built.”
I kept him talking.
Because beneath my coat, my phone was recording.
“You hired Jake?”
“I controlled Jake.”
“You stole my inheritance?”
“Temporarily.”
“And Sloane?”
“A useful idiot.”
Behind Matteo, Luca moved through the shadows.
Matteo noticed my eyes shift.
He smiled.
“Don’t.”
He turned his gun toward Emma.
I stopped breathing.
Then another voice came from the warehouse entrance.
“Hey, Matteo.”
Jake.
Pale.
Bandaged.
Barely standing.
But alive.
Matteo turned instinctively.
That second was enough.
Emma ran.
I grabbed her.
Luca tackled Matteo.
The gun slid across wet concrete.
Dante kicked it away.
Police sirens erupted outside.
Not Castellano men.
Police.
Federal agents followed.
Matteo stared at Luca.
“You called the government?”
Luca stood over him.
“No.”
I raised my phone.
“I did.”
Matteo looked at me.
For the first time, he understood.
The exhausted waitress he had considered irrelevant had recorded his confession.
And I had transmitted it live to the federal agent investigating Sloane.
Matteo laughed bitterly.
“Katherine’s daughter.”
I held Emma against me.
“Yes.”
Agents handcuffed him.
As they led him away, Luca approached us.
Blood ran from his eyebrow.
Emma reached for him.
“Luca.”
He froze.
Then crouched.
She wrapped both arms around his neck.
May you like
He closed his eyes.
And the most feared man in Seattle held my daughter as though she were the most precious thing he had ever touched.
