Chapter 5 - The Dead Man at the Door
I didn't go.
That was the first decision Roman hadn't anticipated.
For four years, he had learned exactly which emotional strings to pull. Mention my father and I would follow. Threaten someone I cared about and I would negotiate.
So at dawn, instead of obeying, I called Dante.
He arrived fifteen minutes later.
Vanessa stiffened when he entered.
I showed him the photograph.
Dante stared at Gabriel Moretti.
“You recognize him.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was alive?”
“No.”
“Don't lie to me again.”
“I won't.”
He looked exhausted.
“Your uncle was involved in your father's investigation. We believed Salvatore had him killed years earlier.”
“Apparently not.”
Dante enlarged the photograph.
“The timestamp is wrong.”
Vanessa frowned.
“What?”
“The warehouse burned at 11:43 p.m. This says 1:12 a.m.”
“So it's fake?”
“Not necessarily. Metadata can be changed.”
I looked at the image.
“My father is alive in it.”
“Yes.”
“Then find out where it came from.”
Dante made a call.
While he worked, Vanessa sat by the window.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked.
She looked surprised.
“I helped destroy your marriage.”
“Roman destroyed my marriage.”
“I slept with him.”
That hurt.
But truth didn't require pretending it hadn't happened.
“Yes.”
Vanessa looked down.
“I knew he was married. I told myself you were cold, spoiled, that the marriage was already dead. That's what Roman said.”
“And now?”
“Now I think he chooses women who need something and convinces them he's the only person who can provide it.”
That sounded painfully familiar.
“What did you need?”
“My mother's medical bills paid.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Roman rarely bought loyalty with luxuries.
He bought it with rescue.
Dante returned.
“My team traced the image.”
“And?”
“It was taken from an old security archive.”
“Where?”
“Moretti Warehouse Nine.”
I stared.
“That building burned.”
“Not that warehouse.”
He turned the laptop.
Warehouse Nine remained operational under a subsidiary I technically now controlled.
Roman had summoned me to my own property.
“I'm going.”
Dante shook his head.
“Not alone.”
“He specifically said alone.”
“Roman doesn't get to dictate your security.”
I almost argued.
Then I realized accepting help wasn't the same as surrendering control.
“We do it my way.”
Dante nodded.
Warehouse Nine stood beside the Calumet River.
I entered through the front.
Dante's team remained hidden several blocks away.
Inside, Roman waited alone.
Or appeared to.
“Evelyn.”
“Where's Gabriel?”
Roman smiled.
“You've changed.”
“No. I stopped performing the version of me you preferred.”
His smile faded.
“Your uncle is alive.”
“Where?”
“First, we negotiate.”
“No.”
“You haven't heard my offer.”
“I don't negotiate for information that belongs to me.”
Roman walked closer.
“Give me the memory card and sign the Moretti voting rights back to Castellano Holdings.”
“And?”
“I tell you who killed your father.”
“You did.”
“No.”
The certainty in his voice disturbed me.
“My father ordered the fire,” Roman said. “I won't insult you by denying that.”
I swallowed.
“But Thomas escaped the first blaze.”
“What?”
“Dante got him out.”
My pulse stopped.
“That isn't what Dante said.”
“Exactly.”
Roman held up a tablet.
Security footage played.
Dante dragged my father through a side door.
Alive.
Minutes later, a vehicle arrived.
Gabriel stepped out.
My uncle.
He embraced my father.
Then the footage ended.
“What happened next?”
Roman lowered the tablet.
“Transfer the company.”
I stared at him.
Then laughed.
Roman's eyes narrowed.
“You're bluffing.”
“Am I?”
“You've spent four years underestimating me, Roman. Why stop tonight?”
His jaw hardened.
I lifted my phone.
“You showed me enough.”
“What?”
“The timestamp. Warehouse camera number. Vehicle plate.”
His expression changed.
“You didn't need to give me the answer. You gave me everything needed to find it.”
I turned.
Roman grabbed my arm.
A voice came from the darkness.
“Take your hand off her.”
Dante.
Roman laughed bitterly.
“You brought him.”
“I brought witnesses.”
Lights came on.
Not Dante's armed men.
Attorneys.
Two federal investigators.
And the independent trustee overseeing Moretti Holdings.
Roman released me.
“You set me up.”
I looked at him.
“No. I learned from you.”
Roman's face became cold.
“Then learn this.”
He looked toward Dante.
“Ask him what happened after Gabriel arrived.”
“I intend to.”
Roman walked away.
Nobody could arrest him merely for meeting me.
But he'd made another mistake.
He confirmed the existence of footage.
By afternoon, federal investigators recovered the archive.
At 7:30 p.m., Dante and I watched the next segment.
My father climbed into Gabriel's vehicle.
They drove away.
Three hours later, the vehicle returned.
Only Gabriel got out.
He carried my father's coat.
I felt sick.
Then another camera captured Gabriel meeting someone behind the warehouse.
A woman.
The image was grainy.
But Dante froze it.
I stared.
The woman was older now, but I knew that face.
Everyone in Chicago did.
Margaret Vale.
Dante's mother.
I turned slowly.
Dante looked as shocked as I felt.
“My mother told me she never met Gabriel Moretti.”
The video continued.
Gabriel handed Margaret something.
My father's watch.
Then the screen went black.
Dante whispered, “Jesus.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Evelyn?”
A man's voice.
Older.
Shaking.
I knew it anyway.
“Uncle Gabriel?”
Silence.
Then:
“Don't trust Roman.”
I stood.
“Where are you?”
“And don't trust Dante's mother.”
Dante heard.
His face went white.
Gabriel continued.
“Your father survived the warehouse.”
My knees weakened.
“What happened to him?”
Gabriel began crying.
“I made a terrible mistake.”
“Where are you?”
“I can explain everything.”
“Then explain.”
“I can't over the phone.”
A crash sounded behind him.
Gabriel gasped.
Then shouted something.
The line went dead.
Thirty seconds later, a text arrived.
An address.
And beneath it:
COME BEFORE THEY FIND ME.
This time the location wasn't in Chicago.
It was a cabin in Wisconsin.
May you like
But the final message was the one that changed everything.
EVELYN, YOUR FATHER DIDN'T DIE FOUR YEARS AGO.
