Chapter 6 - THE BROTHER VINCENT BURIED IN HIS MEMORY
Vincent did not move.
“Gabriel.”
The man nodded.
Rebecca began crying.
Sofia looked between them.
“Who is he?”
Vincent answered without taking his eyes from Gabriel.
“My brother.”
Gabriel looked older than Vincent by perhaps eight years.
There was no warmth in his face.
But there was pain.
A great deal of it.
“You let everyone believe you were dead,” Vincent said.
“Father made certain of that.”
“You could have contacted me.”
“I did.”
Vincent’s expression sharpened.
“When?”
“Your eighteenth birthday. Your wedding. Sofia’s birth.”
Gabriel looked toward Rebecca.
“Every letter came back.”
Vincent slowly turned.
Rebecca shook her head.
“Not me.”
Gabriel nodded.
“No. Lucia.”
Vincent flinched.
Their mother had kept Gabriel away.
Another beloved person becoming more complicated.
“Why?”
“Because she knew I was trying to destroy the organization Father left you.”
Vincent’s voice cooled.
“And were you?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
Gabriel stepped into the library.
“Carlo used charitable clinics to move money and controlled pharmaceuticals. Mercer built the medical side. Father tolerated it because it financed operations he didn’t want on Moretti books.”
Clara thought about Carlo’s letter.
“He changed his mind.”
“Eventually.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Because of you.”
Clara stared.
“When he learned Elena was pregnant, he began imagining what happened if one of his children grew up outside his protection.”
Gabriel laughed bitterly.
“He suddenly discovered a conscience.”
Vincent looked at his brother.
“You were there when he died.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“But I wanted him frightened.”
Gabriel admitted confronting Carlo in the greenhouse.
He wore their father’s gold ring because Carlo had given it to him years earlier.
Mercer arrived.
Carlo collapsed.
Gabriel believed Mercer was treating him.
By the time he realized otherwise, Carlo was dying.
“Why run?”
“Because Mercer told me exactly what he told Elena.”
Gabriel looked at Rebecca.
“He would kill one of you next.”
Rebecca’s anger erupted.
“So you abandoned us to him?”
“I was twenty-seven and stupid.”
“You were our brother!”
“I know.”
His voice cracked for the first time.
“I have known every day since.”
Sofia watched the adults.
Then asked the simplest question.
“Is Dr. Mercer still here?”
Everyone stopped.
They had forgotten the immediate danger.
Vincent’s security team began searching again.
This time Gabriel helped.
He knew the old service passages Carlo had used decades earlier.
They found Mercer’s jacket near the garage.
Then blood.
Not Sofia’s.
Daniel appeared from the corridor holding his arm.
“Mercer stabbed me.”
Clara rushed toward him.
“Where?”
“He went toward the west wing.”
Gabriel’s expression changed.
“The chapel.”
The Moretti house had a small private chapel built by Vincent’s grandmother.
Inside, they found Mercer.
He was standing beside the altar.
Elena’s silver watch sat in his hand.
Vincent raised his weapon.
Mercer smiled.
“You always were Carlo’s favorite.”
“Put it down.”
“You still don’t understand.”
Mercer looked at Gabriel.
“You came back for evidence that no longer exists.”
Gabriel’s face tightened.
Mercer opened the watch.
Empty.
His smile disappeared.
Clara stepped into the doorway.
“You wanted the wrong object.”
Mercer saw the necklace.
For the first time, genuine fear crossed his face.
Then he lunged.
Gabriel tackled him.
The two men crashed into a pew.
Vincent’s security men restrained Mercer within seconds.
No grand shootout.
No heroic execution.
Just an aging doctor suddenly facedown on polished wood, breathing hard.
Vincent crouched beside him.
“Who drugged Sofia?”
Mercer laughed.
“You already know.”
Vincent grabbed his collar.
“Say it.”
Mercer looked toward Gabriel.
“He did.”
Everyone froze.
Gabriel stared.
“That’s a lie.”
Mercer smiled.
“Is it?”
Sofia spoke from behind Clara.
“No.”
Vincent turned sharply.
She should not have followed them.
But she stood there holding Rebecca’s hand.
Sofia pointed at Mercer.
“You gave me the juice.”
Mercer’s smile vanished.
“You said it was medicine for my stomach.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
That answered one question.
Mercer had drugged Sofia.
But Sofia continued.
“Uncle Gabriel carried me outside.”
Vincent turned.
Gabriel’s face changed.
“I found her unconscious.”
“You carried her out of the estate?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I thought Mercer’s men were coming.”
“So you dumped my daughter in an alley?”
“No!”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“I took her to Daniel. Daniel was supposed to get her somewhere safe.”
Everyone looked at Daniel.
His face went pale.
Clara remembered the alley.
Daniel had been there.
Daniel had ordered her away from Sofia.
Rebecca whispered, “Daniel?”
Daniel looked at Clara.
“I lost her.”
“What?”
“Sofia woke in the car. She was terrified. She kicked the door open when I stopped behind the laundromat.”
Sofia nodded.
“I ran.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“When I found her again, Clara was holding her. Then Vincent’s SUVs arrived.”
The frightening stranger had not been trying to abduct Sofia.
He had failed to protect her.
Vincent looked furious.
But the fury was no longer simple.
Nothing was.
Mercer began laughing again.
“You’re all so busy deciding which family member betrayed which other family member.”
Clara looked at him.
“What’s funny?”
He raised his head.
“The necklace.”
Her hand closed around it.
“What about it?”
“Carlo never put evidence in an account.”
Gabriel frowned.
Mercer smiled.
“He put names there.”
“What names?”
“The people who built the entire network.”
Vincent’s voice hardened.
“How many?”
“Enough to destroy what remains of the Moretti organization.”
Gabriel stared.
“That’s what I came back for.”
Mercer’s smile widened.
“And that is why someone else will kill Clara before sunrise.”
Vincent looked at his security men.
“Lock him down.”
Mercer called after them.
“You still don’t see it, Vincent.”
Vincent stopped.
Mercer nodded toward Clara.
“Ask why her mother chose St. Matthew’s.”
Clara turned.
“What does my mother’s rehabilitation center have to do with this?”
Mercer’s smile disappeared.
“Everything.”
May you like
He looked directly at her.
“Because St. Matthew’s was the last clinic Carlo Moretti ever owned.”
