Chapter 9 - THE LAST MORETTI SECRET
Vincent read Isabella’s note twice.
Give her one chance.
Even wounded, Isabella was still doing what nobody else in the Moretti family knew how to do.
Trust carefully.
Not blindly.
Carefully.
Vincent looked at Victoria.
“One chance.”
She nodded.
“That’s more than I deserve.”
“Yes.”
Michael divided the operation.
He would rescue Emma.
Samuel would remain in communication.
Victoria would lead Michael to the location.
Vincent would go to the bank.
“What about Isabella?” Victoria asked.
“Protected.”
“By whom?”
Vincent looked at Michael.
Michael understood the question.
After everything that had happened, trust itself had become dangerous.
“People I brought from Europe,” Vincent said.
“Nobody from Chicago knows them.”
At 11:50 a.m., Vincent entered Moretti International Bank.
The building belonged to him.
Today it felt like enemy territory.
Daniel waited in the private vault lobby.
Catherine sat beside him.
Untied.
Vincent stopped.
“Mother.”
“I’m fine.”
Daniel smiled.
“I’m not a monster.”
Catherine looked at him.
“You shot at me.”
“I missed.”
“Your standards are impressive.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Even kidnapped, Catherine remained Catherine.
Daniel gestured toward the vault.
“Ready?”
“Let her leave.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“After.”
Vincent studied him.
His younger brother looked exhausted.
Not triumphant.
Something was cracking.
They entered the underground vault.
Box 317 waited inside a private chamber.
Retinal scan.
Fingerprint.
Then voice authorization.
The system spoke.
IDENTIFY.
“Vincent Antonio Moretti.”
Green.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Daniel Robert Moretti.”
Red.
Daniel froze.
Vincent looked at him.
“Robert?”
Catherine closed her eyes.
Vincent understood.
“No.”
Daniel stared at his mother.
Catherine whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“What?”
Vincent looked between them.
Catherine stood.
“Antonio was not your biological father.”
Silence.
Daniel laughed.
“No.”
“Daniel—”
“No.”
“Robert and I—”
Daniel stepped backward.
“No.”
Catherine’s voice shook.
“It happened once.”
Vincent stared at his mother.
She had carried this for more than thirty years.
“Antonio knew,” she said.
Daniel looked destroyed.
“He knew?”
“Yes.”
“And he raised me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he loved you.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No. He tolerated me.”
“He loved you.”
“He chose Vincent!”
“He chose Vincent to run the organization.”
Catherine stepped closer.
“He chose you to remain free of it.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Free?”
“Antonio didn’t want this life for you.”
Daniel’s eyes filled.
“He never respected me.”
“He was trying to save you.”
The tragedy of the Moretti family suddenly became painfully clear.
Every act of protection had looked like rejection.
Every secret had created another wound.
Daniel pointed the gun at Vincent.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I learned thirty seconds ago.”
“Everybody lies!”
“Yes.”
Vincent’s answer surprised him.
“Yes, Daniel. Everybody in this family lies.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“Father lied. Mother lied. Isabella lied. I lied every time I told my wife I was protecting her while leaving her alone.”
Daniel’s hand trembled.
“But none of those lies have to decide what happens next.”
Daniel looked at the box.
“I want what’s inside.”
“Then open it with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Maybe you don’t need the system.”
Vincent removed a small tool.
Daniel frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Something Father hated.”
Vincent forced the mechanical release.
Alarm.
The box unlocked.
Daniel stared.
“You could do that?”
“It’s my bank.”
For one absurd second, Catherine laughed.
Then Vincent opened Box 317.
Inside was a flash drive.
And three envelopes.
One for Vincent.
One for Samuel.
One for Daniel.
Daniel stared at his name.
Antonio had left him something.
His hands shook as he opened it.
He read silently.
Then sat.
Vincent watched tears appear.
“What does it say?”
Daniel handed him the letter.
Vincent read.
Daniel,
If you are reading this, then I failed to tell you something while I still had the courage.
You are not my biological son.
Daniel covered his face.
Vincent continued.
But you are my son.
Blood is the easiest inheritance a man can give. Love is the harder one.
Vincent stopped.
Daniel whispered, “Keep reading.”
I saw your anger whenever I prepared Vincent to succeed me. You believed I thought you were weaker. The truth is that I hoped one of my sons might escape this life.
Vincent inherited my burden.
I wanted you to inherit my chance to become better.
Daniel began crying.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Like a boy who had spent his entire life waiting for one sentence from a dead father.
Vincent lowered the letter.
Daniel’s gun slipped from his hand.
Catherine moved toward him.
He did not stop her.
She held him.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Daniel whispered:
“I ruined everything.”
Vincent looked at him.
“You did a lot.”
Daniel almost laughed through tears.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at the flash drive.
“Robert wanted that.”
“Crown.”
Daniel nodded.
“I thought if I controlled Crown, nobody would ever treat me like the useless brother again.”
Vincent sat across from him.
“And now?”
Daniel looked at Antonio’s letter.
“Now I think Father was right.”
“About what?”
“I should have escaped.”
Vincent nodded.
“Help us finish it.”
Daniel looked up.
“How?”
“Access.”
Daniel had spent years quietly building connections through Crown.
He knew accounts.
Safe houses.
Names.
Routes.
He could identify the network.
Daniel looked toward Catherine.
Then Vincent.
“I’ll give you everything.”
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
Michael.
“Emma is secure.”
Samuel’s voice broke through the speaker.
“Thank God.”
But Michael continued.
“We have another problem.”
“What?”
“Robert escaped during transfer.”
Vincent stood.
“How?”
“Inside help.”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
Then Vincent’s other phone rang.
Hospital.
His stomach dropped.
He answered.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“This is St. Catherine Medical Center.”
Vincent already knew.
“What happened?”
“Your wife is missing.”
Everything inside him stopped.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Security?”
“Two guards were found unconscious.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Robert.
The phone buzzed with an incoming photograph.
Isabella.
Still wearing her hospital gown.
Sitting inside a car.
Robert beside her.
A message followed.
BRING THE DRIVE TO THE OLD MORETTI HOUSE.
Then another.
THIS ENDS WHERE IT BEGAN.
Vincent stared.
Catherine saw his face.
“What?”
Vincent picked up Daniel’s abandoned gun.
“Robert has Isabella.”
Daniel stood.
“Vincent—”
Vincent looked at his brother.
Something in his expression made everyone silent.
For six years, Vincent had believed power meant building an empire large enough that nobody could touch the woman he loved.
He had been wrong.
Power was not money.
Not fear.
Not men with guns.
Power was knowing exactly what mattered enough to lose everything else.
Vincent placed the flash drive in his pocket.
“Call Michael.”
Catherine grabbed his arm.
“Don’t go alone.”
Vincent looked at Daniel.
Then at his mother.
“I’m not.”
Daniel stared.
“You trust me?”
Vincent handed him a second gun.
“No.”
A pause.
“But Isabella gave Victoria one chance.”
He looked into his brother’s eyes.
“I’m giving you yours.”
May you like
Daniel took the weapon.
And together, the two Moretti brothers walked out to bring Vincent’s wife home.
