Chương 8 - What Power Was For
Luca heard Richard’s voice through the speaker.
Every instinct he had inherited from Vittorio Duca demanded violence.
Find him.
Take Clare’s mother back.
Make Richard Mercer afraid.
For once, Luca did none of those things.
He looked at Torres.
She was already signaling technicians.
Clare forced herself to speak.
“If you hurt her—”
“Your mother is perfectly safe.”
In the background, Eleanor Bennett said, “Clare, don’t give him anything.”
Richard sighed.
“Your mother has always been stubborn.”
Clare’s hands shook.
“What do you want?”
“The cassette.”
“The police have it.”
“A copy exists.”
Clare looked at Torres.
Torres shook her head.
There was no known second copy.
Richard believed there was.
“Where do you want to meet?”
Luca immediately mouthed no.
Clare ignored him.
Richard named an old Duca construction site in Brooklyn.
The same development Thomas Bennett had investigated twenty years earlier.
“Midnight. Alone.”
The call ended.
Clare looked at Luca.
“No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face did.”
Torres interrupted.
“Nobody is going alone.”
The operation was built carefully.
Clare would enter wearing a wire.
Police tactical teams would surround the property.
Luca would remain at the command post.
He argued for exactly thirty seconds.
Then Clare said, “Trust me.”
He stopped.
At 11:58 p.m., Clare entered the abandoned building.
Richard Mercer waited beneath exposed concrete beams.
Her mother sat in a chair several feet away.
Unhurt.
Richard held a handgun.
“Where is it?”
Clare lifted a flash drive.
“Let her go first.”
Richard laughed.
“You spent too much time with Duca.”
“No. I spent enough time with controlling men to learn they all think the same way.”
His smile vanished.
Clare continued.
“You thought my father could be frightened. You thought Evan could be controlled. You thought I would marry your son and never notice why he kept asking about my boss.”
Richard raised the gun.
“Careful.”
“You killed my father.”
Outside, investigators listened.
Richard’s expression remained calm.
“Your father made unfortunate choices.”
“Like refusing your money?”
“Like believing righteousness protected him.”
“Did you order the car to hit him?”
Richard stared at her.
“Your father should have taken the money.”
It was not a direct confession.
Torres needed more.
Clare stepped closer.
“You went to the hospital.”
Something changed in his eyes.
“Luca saw you.”
“Luca was a frightened boy.”
“He saw you enter my father’s room.”
Richard smiled.
“And yet your father died, and Luca spent twenty years silent.”
“Did you kill him there?”
Richard’s face hardened.
Then a sound came from above.
Metal scraping concrete.
Richard looked up.
That second was enough.
Eleanor threw herself sideways.
Clare dropped.
Police flooded the building.
Richard fired once.
The bullet struck concrete.
Officers tackled him before he could fire again.
Clare crawled toward her mother.
“Mom!”
“I’m okay.”
They held each other.
Then another shot sounded outside.
Clare froze.
“Luca.”
She ran.
Torres shouted after her.
Clare emerged into the rain.
Luca stood beside the command vehicle.
Alive.
A police officer had accidentally discharged a weapon while securing another suspect.
Clare stopped so abruptly she nearly fell.
Luca saw her.
“What happened?”
She walked toward him.
Then hit his chest.
Not hard.
“You were supposed to stay in the van.”
“I am beside the van.”
“That is not inside.”
“I needed air.”
“You are impossible.”
“I’ve been told.”
She laughed.
Then cried.
Then kissed him.
Luca froze.
For perhaps the first time in his adult life, the most feared man in the room had absolutely no idea what to do.
Clare pulled away.
“That was not permission to become unbearable.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You were thinking loudly.”
His mouth curved.
Then his expression sobered.
“Are you sure?”
“About what?”
“This.”
She understood.
Clare looked back toward the building where police were leading Richard Mercer away.
“No.”
Luca nodded.
“Okay.”
“You’re not disappointed?”
“Terribly.”
She laughed again.
“But you’re allowed to be unsure.”
That answer mattered.
Weeks passed.
Richard was held without bail while prosecutors built cases involving kidnapping, obstruction, bribery, financial crimes, and Thomas Bennett’s death.
Evan pleaded guilty to unlawful surveillance, unauthorized computer access, and financial offenses. His cooperation reduced his exposure but did not erase what he had done.
Clare visited him once.
There was glass between them.
“I’m sorry,” Evan said.
“I know.”
“I did love you.”
Clare considered that.
“Maybe you did.”
His eyes filled.
“But love that requires me to be smaller so you can feel safe isn’t love I can live inside.”
Evan nodded.
She stood.
“Goodbye.”
Outside, Luca waited beside a black sedan.
He did not ask what Evan said.
Clare appreciated that too.
They drove toward Manhattan.
Halfway across the bridge, Clare noticed Luca was unusually quiet.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re terrible at nothing.”
He glanced at her.
“The board wants me back as chairman.”
“You resigned.”
“Temporarily.”
“And?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Clare studied him.
Six months earlier, Luca would have treated control of Duca Holdings as inseparable from his identity.
Now he seemed tired.
“What do you want?”
He looked genuinely confused.
Nobody asked Luca Duca that question.
“I don’t know.”
Clare smiled.
“Good.”
“How is that good?”
“Now you get to find out.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then his phone rang.
Marco.
Luca answered.
“What?”
His expression changed.
Clare’s smile disappeared.
“What happened?”
Luca ended the call.
“Richard Mercer wants to change his plea.”
“To guilty?”
“No.”
Luca stared ahead.
“He says Vittorio Duca was alive when Thomas Bennett died.”
Clare frowned.
“Your father died six years ago.”
“I know.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Luca looked at her.
Clare felt cold.
“What did Richard say?”
May you like
Luca answered quietly.
“He says my father didn’t die six years ago.”
