Chapter 9 - The Last Signature
At 11:43 p.m., Warren Castellano walked into the old family mansion believing he had finally won.
Emmett was alive.
That was inconvenient.
But the doctors had nearly lost him once, and Warren still controlled enough of the business to make his nephew's recovery irrelevant.
He poured himself a whiskey.
Sat behind Emmett's desk.
And waited.
At midnight, the documents would be signed.
Or people would die.
That was the arrangement Paul Denning had delivered.
Warren had no idea that Denning had already agreed to cooperate with investigators.
He also didn't know that Detective Vasquez had spent the afternoon coordinating with federal agents examining the financial records.
And he certainly didn't know Emmett Castellano had decided to stop protecting the family name.
At 11:57, the study doors opened.
Emmett entered in a wheelchair, accompanied by Mercer and Gabriel.
Warren stood.
“My boy.”
Emmett said nothing.
Warren approached with an expression of practiced concern.
“You shouldn't be out of the hospital.”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Of course.”
Warren glanced at the wheelchair.
“Still no improvement?”
Emmett looked at him.
“My legs aren't the problem tonight.”
Warren's smile weakened.
Mercer placed a folder on the desk.
“Transfer documents,” he said.
Warren relaxed.
“Good.”
He opened the folder.
The papers appeared to transfer controlling interests in several family companies.
Warren reached for his pen.
Emmett watched him.
“Before I sign, I want to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“Did you love my mother?”
Warren froze.
“What?”
“Eleanor.”
Warren set down the pen.
“Of course I did.”
“Did you love Isabella?”
“Emmett, what is this?”
“Did you love me?”
Warren's expression hardened.
“You're exhausted.”
Emmett leaned forward.
“Answer.”
Warren sighed.
“I spent my life protecting this family.”
“From whom?”
“Enemies.”
Emmett nodded.
“And when there weren't enough enemies outside the house, did you start making them inside?”
Warren's eyes narrowed.
Mercer remained silent.
Gabriel stood near the door.
Emmett continued.
“Brendan Sullivan.”
Warren stopped breathing for a fraction of a second.
“Who?”
“The firefighter.”
“I don't remember every firefighter who died in Boston.”
“No. Just the ones who found your records.”
Warren's face changed.
The warmth disappeared.
“What have you been told?”
“The truth.”
Warren laughed softly.
“You've always been sentimental.”
Emmett's hands tightened around the wheelchair arms.
“You arranged the warehouse fire.”
“Careful.”
“You paid Ashford.”
“Be very careful.”
“You had my brakes sabotaged.”
Warren stepped closer.
“Lower your voice.”
Emmett looked directly at him.
“Why?”
Warren glanced at Mercer.
Then Gabriel.
Finally, he said, “Because you don't understand what it took to build this family.”
Emmett's voice remained steady.
“You didn't build it.”
Warren's jaw tightened.
“You inherited a kingdom and mistook that for strength.”
“And you mistook murder for leadership.”
Warren slammed his glass onto the desk.
“Everything I did was necessary!”
The words hung in the room.
Emmett didn't move.
Warren realized what he'd said.
His expression shifted.
“That's not—”
“Necessary?” Emmett repeated.
Warren looked toward the door.
Gabriel didn't move.
The study's security camera had been operating under a law-enforcement-approved recording plan. Investigators were positioned nearby.
Warren had not been told.
Emmett continued.
“My mother discovered the insurance fraud.”
Warren said nothing.
“She wanted to turn you in.”
“Eleanor was weak.”
Emmett's expression darkened.
“She was honest.”
“She would have destroyed us.”
“So you had Ashford silence her.”
Warren looked away.
Emmett felt something inside him break.
Not because the truth surprised him.
Because Warren's silence confirmed how little Eleanor's life had meant to him.
“And Arthur Bell?”
Warren's eyes returned to him.
“The investigator?”
“Yes.”
“He should have minded his own business.”
Emmett swallowed.
“And Brendan Sullivan?”
Warren's expression hardened.
“That firefighter made a choice.”
“He died saving Isabella.”
“He went back into a burning building. Nobody forced him.”
Emmett stared.
Then asked the question that had haunted him since Maeve entered his hospital room.
“Why did you try to kill me?”
Warren leaned against the desk.
For the first time, he looked old.
“Because you were going to give the legitimate businesses away.”
Emmett frowned.
“What?”
“You were cleaning up the operation. Selling assets. Cutting off people who'd been loyal for decades.”
“I was ending the criminal side.”
“You were destroying everything.”
Warren shook his head.
“I thought the accident would leave you dependent. Then you started asking questions. Ashford said he could keep you manageable.”
“Manageable.”
“Sedated. Confused. Too weak to interfere.”
Emmett's voice broke.
“And when that wasn't enough?”
Warren said nothing.
Emmett nodded slowly.
“You decided I should die.”
A sudden noise sounded outside.
A vehicle approaching.
Then another.
Warren straightened.
“What is that?”
Gabriel opened the door.
Detective Vasquez entered with federal agents.
“Warren Castellano, you're under arrest.”
Warren backed away.
“No.”
Vasquez continued.
“You have the right to remain silent.”
Warren turned toward Emmett.
“You set me up.”
Emmett looked at him.
“No.”
He paused.
“You finally told the truth.”
Agents took Warren into custody.
He struggled once.
Then stopped.
At the doorway, he looked back.
“You think this ends with me?”
Emmett didn't answer.
Warren smiled.
“You still don't know who ordered your mother's death.”
The room went silent.
Emmett stared.
“What did you say?”
Warren's smile widened.
“I paid Ashford.”
He looked directly at his nephew.
“But somebody else gave the order.”
May you like
Then the agents led him away.
And Emmett Castellano realized the man who had nearly killed him might not have been the person who started the conspiracy.
