Chapter 7 - THE NIGHT THE MORETTI BROTHERS FACED THE FIRE TOGETHER
The flames reached the ceiling before Dante could find the first window.
Heat rolled across the warehouse.
Elena screamed as a burning section of insulation dropped onto the concrete floor.
Matteo grabbed her and pulled her away.
Dante slammed his shoulder against the steel exit door.
It didn't move.
Again.
Nothing.
"There's another way!" Matteo shouted.
"Where?"
"The archive stairs!"
Dante turned toward him.
"You can barely walk."
"I remember this building."
Matteo coughed hard.
"Follow me!"
Smoke thickened.
The emergency lights flickered on, filling the room with a sickly red glow.
Matteo limped toward a storage rack near the eastern wall.
Dante supported him.
Elena followed, holding her shirt over her mouth.
Behind them, flames raced along a line of spilled fuel.
"Move!" Dante shouted.
They reached the rack.
Matteo shoved aside an old metal cabinet.
A narrow door appeared.
"How did you know?" Dante asked.
"I worked here for six months before the first fire."
Dante stared at him.
Six months.
His brother had investigated the criminal operation for six months without asking Dante for help.
Or perhaps he had tried.
And Dante had refused to listen.
Matteo pulled the handle.
The door opened.
Cold air rose from a concrete stairwell.
They rushed inside.
Dante shut the door behind them.
But the smoke followed.
The stairs descended into the original storage level.
Water dripped from exposed pipes.
Old fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
At the bottom, Matteo collapsed against the wall.
Elena knelt beside him.
"You're bleeding."
"Old wound."
"Matteo—"
"I'm fine."
"You are not fine."
He looked at her.
For a moment, the danger seemed to disappear.
He touched her cheek.
"You're real."
She began crying.
"So are you."
He pulled her toward him.
Dante turned away.
He had never felt so grateful to witness someone else's happiness.
Then the sound of boots echoed overhead.
They weren't alone.
Dante drew his gun.
"Stay here."
Matteo grabbed his sleeve.
"No. They're coming for C-12."
Dante looked toward the archive corridor.
"Vittorio has the keys."
"He won't be able to destroy the records unless he opens the locker."
"Then we stop him."
Matteo shook his head.
"You're missing the point. The people who helped him made sure there were duplicate records. If Vittorio destroys the originals, he can claim the copies are forged."
Dante understood.
The original records were what made the difference.
They had to retrieve them.
And they had to survive.
"Can you walk?"
Matteo forced himself upright.
"If I have to."
Elena took his arm.
"Then we're going together."
Dante looked at her.
"This is dangerous."
She met his eyes.
"Mr. Moretti, I've spent five years raising my daughter without her father. I am not leaving him in this building."
There was no arguing with that.
Dante nodded.
"Stay close."
At the opposite end of the archive level, Vittorio stood before a steel locker marked C-12.
Rocco held a flashlight while his uncle struggled with the two locks.
"One at a time," Rocco said.
"I know how keys work."
The first mechanism turned.
Then the second.
A heavy click echoed through the corridor.
Vittorio opened the locker.
Inside sat a metal document case.
He lifted it out.
"Finally."
Rocco glanced toward the stairs.
"Sir, the fire is spreading."
"Then we leave."
Vittorio opened the case.
Inside were ledgers, shipping manifests, a small digital recorder, and several sealed envelopes.
He flipped through the top folder.
His expression changed.
"Where are the transfer certificates?"
Rocco frowned.
"What?"
"The original trust transfers. They're supposed to be here."
Vittorio searched again.
Nothing.
His face darkened.
"Matteo moved them."
A voice came from the shadows.
"Not far enough."
Vittorio spun around.
Dante stood at the corridor entrance, gun raised.
Matteo and Elena remained behind a concrete support column.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Vittorio smiled.
"Remarkable. Your brother survives two fires, and now you seem determined to join him."
"Step away from the case," Dante said.
Rocco raised his weapon.
"Don't," Carmine's voice said behind him.
Rocco froze.
Carmine stood at the bottom of the western stairwell, flanked by two security officers.
His injured arm remained in a sling, but his good hand held his weapon steadily.
Vittorio's smile disappeared.
"Russo."
"Mr. Moretti."
"You've served this family twenty-three years."
Carmine's eyes hardened.
"That's exactly why I'm here."
Vittorio looked toward Dante.
"You brought your men."
"I brought men who still remember what loyalty means."
Rocco's weapon shifted.
Carmine shouted, "Put it down!"
For one terrible moment, Dante thought the younger guard would shoot.
Then Rocco lowered his gun.
One of Carmine's officers secured it and moved him aside.
Vittorio stared at the four men surrounding him.
Then he began laughing.
"You think arresting me changes anything?"
Dante approached.
"It changes tonight."
"You're a fool. Every payment, every shipment, every contract carries your name."
"Because you put it there."
Vittorio's expression turned vicious.
"I put your name where your father should have put mine."
Dante stepped closer.
"Matteo discovered what you were doing."
"Matteo was always digging through things that didn't concern him."
"So you had him kidnapped."
Vittorio shrugged.
"He could have joined me."
Matteo emerged from behind the column.
"You offered to let me live if I signed a statement accusing Dante."
Vittorio looked at him.
"You should have accepted."
Matteo's voice shook.
"You told me my brother had ordered the fire."
Dante turned.
Matteo continued.
"For years, they showed me documents. Messages. Recordings. They made me believe Dante knew where I was."
Dante felt sick.
His uncle hadn't simply imprisoned Matteo.
He had tried to destroy what remained of their brotherhood.
Vittorio smiled faintly.
"People believe what they need to believe."
Dante raised his gun slightly.
Carmine spoke.
"Boss."
Dante looked at him.
Carmine shook his head.
"Not like this."
For several seconds, Dante stood motionless.
Then he lowered the weapon.
Vittorio's expression changed.
"You've grown sentimental."
"No," Dante said.
"I've finally grown tired of burying my family."
A sudden explosion shook the archive floor.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
The lights went out.
Someone screamed.
Dante reached for Elena.
Matteo stumbled backward.
A heavy metal pipe tore loose above them and crashed across the corridor.
Water burst from a broken main.
In the confusion, Vittorio shoved past Carmine's injured shoulder.
Rocco lunged toward the fallen pipe, creating enough confusion for his uncle to escape into the western stairwell.
"Stop him!" Carmine shouted.
But another explosion rolled through the building.
The security officers scrambled to help Elena away from the falling debris.
Dante looked toward the documents.
The case lay open on the wet floor.
He grabbed it.
"Everyone out!"
Matteo leaned against Elena.
His breathing had become shallow.
Dante rushed to his side.
"Stay with me."
Matteo managed a weak grin.
"Still bossing me around."
"Somebody has to."
They climbed the stairs as smoke poured through the lower corridor.
Carmine led them toward an exterior maintenance exit.
The door had been chained.
One of his officers broke the lock with a rescue tool from the emergency cabinet.
Cold night air hit them.
They stumbled onto the waterfront.
Behind them, Pier Nine burned.
Again.
But this time, Matteo Moretti came out alive.
At 7:18 p.m., paramedics examined Matteo inside an ambulance parked three blocks from the fire.
Elena refused to leave his side.
Dante stood nearby, holding the rescued document case.
Carmine approached.
"Vittorio escaped through the western service road."
"Where's Rocco?"
"Custody of our men. His weapon and phone have been secured. I've asked Margaret to arrange a handover to federal investigators."
Dante nodded.
"Any word from the prosecutor?"
"Margaret says agents are reviewing what we recovered. They're preparing to execute warrants as soon as the evidence is authenticated."
Dante opened the case.
Most of the documents were dry.
The digital recorder still worked.
Inside one envelope, he found original shipping manifests with handwritten approval notes.
Vittorio's handwriting.
Another envelope contained bank transfer authorizations.
Underneath lay a photograph.
Dante unfolded it.
Vittorio standing beside three men outside Pier Nine.
One was a shipping inspector.
One was the director of a private security company.
The third was a senior Moretti accountant.
Dante recognized every face.
All three had helped accuse Matteo of stealing money shortly before his disappearance.
Carmine looked over his shoulder.
"That's enough to start putting the whole operation together."
Dante studied the photograph.
"It's a beginning."
He looked toward Matteo.
His brother was sitting upright now, speaking quietly to Elena.
Then Matteo noticed the photograph.
His expression changed.
"Dante."
Dante approached.
"What?"
Matteo pointed to the accountant.
"Marshall Pike."
"I know."
"No. Listen."
Matteo gripped Dante's wrist.
"Marshall was the person who arranged the forged records. He kept copies of everything."
"Where?"
"At the foundation offices."
Dante frowned.
"Those offices are inside the estate."
"Not tonight."
Matteo swallowed.
"Tonight Marshall will be at the gala."
Dante stared at him.
Matteo's voice became urgent.
"Vittorio is going there to destroy the remaining evidence and sign the transfer documents himself using the emergency authority he controls."
"How can he?"
"Because he has a document showing you are legally unfit to manage the company."
Dante went still.
"What document?"
Matteo closed his eyes.
"A psychiatric evaluation. Forged. They used the same doctor who has been sedating Mother."
Dante felt cold anger spread through him.
"They're going to declare me incompetent."
Matteo nodded.
"And make Vittorio the temporary chairman."
Dante looked toward the burning warehouse.
"Then I need to stop the gala."
Matteo tightened his grip.
"There's something worse."
"What?"
"Vittorio knows we got out."
Dante frowned.
"How?"
Matteo looked at Carmine.
"He has eyes everywhere."
Dante's phone vibrated.
A message from the foundation's public-relations director.
URGENT: Your uncle has begun the press conference without you.
Attached was a livestream link.
Dante opened it.
Vittorio stood beneath the crystal chandeliers of the Moretti ballroom.
Behind him, hundreds of guests were seated.
He wore a solemn expression.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Vittorio announced, "I regret to inform you that my nephew Dante Moretti has suffered a serious breakdown."
Dante stared at the screen.
Vittorio continued.
"For the safety of our family, our businesses, and everyone who depends on us, I have been forced to take emergency action."
He held up a signed document.
"Effective immediately, I am assuming control of the Moretti Foundation and its associated properties."
The camera flashed.
Then Vittorio delivered the sentence that made Dante's blood turn cold.
"My nephew is also wanted for questioning in connection with the death of his younger brother, Matteo."
The ballroom erupted in shocked whispers.
Vittorio lowered his eyes.
"And I have reason to believe he has abducted a five-year-old girl."
Dante stared at the screen.
A photograph appeared behind Vittorio.
Sophie.
Her full name.
Her face.
Her school.
And the address of the apartment where she was hiding.
Carmine turned pale.
"Boss..."
Dante was already dialing the safe house.
No answer.
He called again.
Then Sophie answered.
"Uncle Dante?"
"Sweetheart, listen to me. Where's Bruno?"
"Right here."
"Where are the guards?"
She hesitated.
"One went downstairs."
Dante's heart slammed against his ribs.
"Why?"
"Because somebody's at the door."
"Do not open it."
Sophie whispered, "I didn't."
Then Dante heard three knocks.
Knock.
May you like
Knock.
Knock.
