Chapter 2 - THE DEBT THAT NEVER ENDED
“Because he's my brother.”
Sophie said it so quietly that Anthony almost missed it.
She stared into the water glass.
“He made a terrible mistake. But he's still my family. My father made me promise I'd look after Evan if anything happened to him.”
Anthony studied her.
“Your father asked you to sacrifice your life for your brother?”
“No. He asked me to make sure Evan didn't feel alone.”
There was a difference.
A significant one.
Anthony had spent twelve years believing that protecting someone meant keeping them away from danger. Sophie seemed to believe it meant standing beside someone even when they made terrible decisions.
“Your brother is twenty-two,” Anthony said. “He is old enough to face the consequences of his choices.”
“I know.”
“Then stop paying.”
Sophie looked up.
“You don't understand.”
“Explain it.”
“They said if I stop, they'll go to my mother's house. They know where she lives. They know what time she leaves for work. They even know which pharmacy she uses.”
Anthony's expression darkened.
“Who told you that?”
“Brent.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
Anthony reached for his phone.
“Caleb.”
His lieutenant appeared almost immediately.
“Find out everything about Raymond Kessler's current collection operation. Every name, every address, every account connected to it.”
Caleb nodded.
“And find Evan Mallory.”
Sophie stood.
“No!”
Anthony looked at her.
“Don't touch my brother.”
“I intend to keep him alive.”
“You don't know him.”
“Then tell me something I don't know.”
Sophie hesitated.
Finally, she reached into her apron and pulled out a folded photograph.
It showed two young men standing beside a battered blue pickup truck.
One was Evan.
The other was unfamiliar.
“That's Daniel Price,” she said. “He introduced Evan to the betting operation. He told him he could double his money in a weekend.”
Anthony glanced at the photograph.
“Where did you get this?”
“Evan sent it to me yesterday.”
Anthony turned it over.
There was a handwritten message on the back.
I'm sorry, Soph. I think I found out who Dad really was.
Anthony stopped breathing for half a second.
“Your father?”
Sophie nodded.
“Evan said someone showed him an old photograph. He wouldn't explain anything else.”
Anthony studied the picture again.
Then he recognized the second man.
Daniel Price was not simply a gambling associate.
He was Raymond Kessler's nephew.
And he had been dead for six months.
“Anthony?”
He looked up.
“Did you know my father?”
The question landed harder than Sophie intended.
Anthony placed the photograph on his desk.
“What was his name?”
“Michael Mallory.”
Anthony went very still.
Michael Mallory.
He remembered the name.
A former accountant.
A man who had worked for one of Anthony's companies fifteen years earlier.
A man who had disappeared after a warehouse fire in Brooklyn.
A man Anthony had been told was dead.
“Your father worked in construction accounting?” he asked.
“Yes. Why?”
Anthony did not answer immediately.
Caleb returned with a folder.
“Tony, we've got a problem.”
Anthony opened it.
Inside were photographs of Sophie's mother entering her apartment building.
Pictures of Sophie leaving the Marrow Room.
And a photograph of Evan sitting in the back of a black SUV.
On the bottom was a handwritten message.
THE GIRL IS THE PAYMENT.
Sophie saw it.
Her face drained of color.
Anthony closed the folder.
“Caleb, double security around her mother. Nobody approaches that apartment without our authorization.”
Sophie stepped backward.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you're not going home alone.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I believe you.”
“Then stop making decisions for me!”
Her voice cracked.
Anthony paused.
For the first time in years, someone had raised their voice at him without immediately regretting it.
“You're right,” he said.
Sophie blinked.
“What?”
“You should have a say in what happens next.”
He pushed the photograph toward her.
“But I need you to understand something. This is no longer just about an unpaid gambling debt.”
“Then what is it about?”
Anthony looked at the photograph of Michael Mallory.
“Your father may have stolen something from a very dangerous man.”
Sophie shook her head.
“My father was an accountant.”
“Sometimes that's the most dangerous position in my world.”
Before she could respond, Anthony's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man's voice emerged.
“Still playing the hero, Anthony?”
Raymond Kessler.
Anthony leaned back.
“What do you want?”
“Your waitress.”
“She isn't yours.”
A low laugh.
“Funny. Her father said the same thing fifteen years ago.”
Anthony's fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did you say?”
“Ask Catherine what happened in Brooklyn.”
Anthony stopped moving.
The room seemed to lose its air.
“Catherine is dead.”
“Yes,” Raymond replied. “And she took a very important secret with her.”
The call ended.
Anthony stared at the screen.
Sophie was watching him.
“Who was that?”
Anthony slowly raised his eyes.
“Someone who just made this personal.”
May you like
And for the first time in twelve years, Anthony Bellucci was afraid that the past had not finished with him.
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