Chapter 8 - The Last Deal
The address led to an abandoned church in Brooklyn, a building wedged between two warehouses and forgotten by the city.
Dante arrived alone, as instructed.
He carried the medallion in his coat pocket and a concealed weapon beneath his jacket. Two blocks away, Enzo's men waited in unmarked vehicles, ready to move if Dante failed to check in.
Inside, candles flickered beneath a cracked marble altar.
Sophia stood near the front pew.
Her wrists were free, but she looked pale and exhausted.
Dante started toward her.
"Stop," a woman's voice commanded.
An elderly woman emerged from behind a stone pillar.
Her silver hair was braided down her back. A walking stick rested in one hand.
Dante recognized her face from a photograph Elena had shown him.
His grandmother.
Isabella Moretti.
"You've grown into your father's eyes," she said.
"Where have you been?"
"Surviving."
"Why did everyone tell me you were dead?"
"Because I was supposed to be."
She looked at Sophia.
"Your grandmother and I made a bargain. We agreed that if either family came looking for the girl, the other would hide her."
Sophia frowned.
"You knew my grandmother?"
"I knew her better than I knew my own children."
Isabella approached the altar and placed a small leather case on it.
Inside were documents, letters, and a photograph of Adriano Moretti standing beside a young woman.
Sophia recognized her mother's face.
"My mother," she whispered.
Isabella nodded.
"Her name was Maria. She was brave, stubborn, and too trusting of men who wore expensive suits."
Dante's voice sharpened.
"Who killed my father?"
Isabella looked at him for a long moment.
"Your father was murdered because he intended to turn himself in. He had evidence of the crimes committed by both families. He wanted you to grow up without inheriting his enemies."
"Who pulled the trigger?"
"Marco Bellini."
"I know that."
"No, Dante. You know who fired the gun. You don't know who gave him the order."
Isabella opened the leather case and removed a folded document.
"The order came from someone who believed Adriano's death would preserve the family. Someone who convinced himself that one murder could prevent a war."
Dante took the document.
The signature at the bottom belonged to his grandfather, Salvatore Moretti.
But Salvatore had died three years before Adriano.
Dante looked up.
"This is impossible."
"Salvatore signed it before his death," Isabella said. "He ordered Adriano eliminated if he ever threatened to expose the family's dealings. Marco carried out that order years later, after Vincent Genovese reminded him what would happen if he refused."
Sophia's voice trembled.
"And my mother?"
"Maria discovered the truth. She helped Lucia escape with the evidence. She was killed in a staged car accident before she could testify."
Dante looked at Sophia.
She had lost her mother, her grandmother's protection, her home, and now the only simple explanation she had ever had for her life.
He stepped closer.
"Sophia, I'm sorry."
She looked at him.
"For what? Your family didn't just hurt mine. Mine helped keep yours powerful. Everyone has been protecting a lie."
"Then we end it."
"How?"
Dante held up the documents.
"We expose the men who ordered the murders. We dismantle the arrangement that kept both families rich."
Isabella laughed bitterly.
"You think the police will reward you for honesty? Half the evidence is inadmissible. The other half implicates people who still hold power."
"Then we give them everything."
"And you lose your empire."
Dante glanced at Sophia.
"I can live with that."
Sophia's eyes filled with tears.
For the first time, she saw the man beneath the reputation: a man who had been raised to inherit violence and was finally choosing to reject it.
Then a slow clap echoed from the rear of the church.
Vincent Genovese stepped out of the shadows.
Two armed men stood behind him.
"Beautiful," he said. "Really. A family reunion, a confession, and a moral awakening. I should have charged admission."
Dante turned toward him.
"Let her go."
Vincent smiled.
"Of course."
He gestured toward Sophia.
"She's free to leave. So is your grandmother. All I want is the trust."
"You won't get it."
"Then I'll take something else."
He raised his gun toward Isabella.
Sophia moved instinctively.
The shot exploded.
Isabella fell against the altar.
Dante lunged for Vincent as the two armed men opened fire.
Glass shattered. Candles toppled. Sophia dragged Isabella behind the stone altar while Dante fought through the smoke.
When the gunfire stopped, Vincent was gone.
One of his men lay unconscious. The other had fled.
Isabella was bleeding heavily, but she was alive.
She caught Sophia's hand.
"Listen to me," she whispered. "Your grandmother didn't leave you the money."
Sophia leaned closer.
"Then who did?"
Isabella's eyes shifted toward Dante.
"Adriano did."
She pressed a tiny brass key into Sophia's palm.
"The trust isn't the fortune. It's the door."
May you like
Then she lost consciousness.
And from somewhere beneath the church floor came the unmistakable sound of a phone ringing.
