Chapter 8 - THE LAST SON OF VALE
Jonathan Vale had not merely invented Gabriel.
He had sent his own son into the Moretti family.
That changed the game.
Agent Donovan confirmed the truth an hour later.
The man calling himself Gabriel was actually Michael Vale, Jonathan’s only son, officially reported dead at age six in a house fire in Indiana.
Another false death.
Sebastian stopped being surprised.
“Why would Vale erase his son’s identity?” Maria asked.
“To create an asset no government database could trace,” Donovan said.
They stood inside Sebastian’s library.
Carlo sat near the fireplace, his shoulder bandaged.
Daniel remained by Maria.
For the first time, father and daughter occupied the same room knowing who they were to each other.
It was awkward.
Painful.
But real.
Lucy slept upstairs under guard.
Sebastian refused to let her out of the mansion again.
Donovan continued.
“Vale appears to have raised Michael under different identities. Military school. Private security work. Overseas contracts.”
“A weapon,” Carlo said.
Donovan nodded.
“Basically.”
Sebastian looked at Maria.
“Why does Michael think you know something?”
“My mother’s photograph.”
“Which photograph?”
Maria took a long time to answer.
“Before she died, she mailed me one envelope.”
She had told them about the letter.
Not everything inside it.
“There was a picture of Jonathan Vale with a little boy.”
“Michael.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“A handwritten sentence.”
Sebastian waited.
“What sentence?”
Maria’s eyes moved to Carlo.
“Vale killed Gabriel.”
Carlo stood.
“My son?”
Maria nodded.
“According to my mother.”
The room went still.
Carlo looked suddenly older.
Evelyn’s recording claimed Carlo’s biological baby died naturally during the hospital crisis.
Elena claimed Vale killed him.
One of them was wrong.
Or lying.
Sebastian turned to Donovan.
“Get Vale.”
“He’s in federal detention.”
“Then arrange it.”
Two hours later they sat inside a federal interview room.
Jonathan Vale entered in handcuffs.
His arrogance survived captivity.
He smiled when he saw Maria.
“Elena’s girl.”
Daniel rose.
Sebastian stopped him.
Vale looked at Carlo.
“Well. The dead are having quite a reunion.”
Carlo ignored him.
“My child.”
Vale’s smile faded slightly.
“What about him?”
“Did you kill him?”
Vale leaned back.
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“Your father happened.”
“Giovanni?”
Vale nodded.
“The weak twin belonged to you. The healthy twin belonged to Thomas.”
Thomas’s son survived.
Carlo’s didn’t.
“The weaker baby stopped breathing during the evacuation.”
Carlo stared.
“Could he have been saved?”
Vale said nothing.
That was enough.
“You let him die.”
“I had two infants, a fire alarm, Elena screaming, Evelyn interfering—”
Carlo crossed the table before agents stopped him.
Sebastian didn’t.
He understood the impulse too well.
Vale straightened his jacket.
“I did not kill him. I failed to save him.”
Maria asked, “Why did my mother write that you killed Gabriel?”
“Because grief needs villains.”
“You were already one.”
Vale smiled thinly.
Fair point.
Sebastian leaned forward.
“Michael has Thomas.”
Vale’s face changed.
Finally.
Real concern.
“You lost him.”
“Your son kidnapped Thomas.”
Vale looked at Donovan.
“You promised protective custody.”
“Your son assaulted two marshals.”
Vale closed his eyes.
Sebastian watched.
“You care about him.”
“He’s my son.”
“That didn’t stop you from turning him into a weapon.”
Vale glared.
“You know nothing about what was required.”
“I know children aren’t tools.”
Vale laughed.
“Says the Moretti heir.”
Sebastian’s gaze hardened.
“Yes.”
The simple answer removed Vale’s advantage.
Sebastian knew what he was.
He also knew what he wanted to stop becoming.
“Where would Michael take Thomas?”
Vale remained silent.
Maria placed her mother’s medallion on the table.
Vale stared.
“Elena kept that?”
“Yes.”
“She hated me.”
“She was right.”
Vale looked away.
Maria continued.
“Michael thinks I know who he really is.”
“He does now.”
“He wants Evelyn’s recordings.”
“Then he wants the final recording.”
Sebastian frowned.
“There are four cards.”
Vale nodded.
“Evelyn recorded five.”
Maria stared.
“I only have four.”
“The fifth explains where Thomas’s son went.”
Everyone leaned in.
Vale smiled sadly.
“And Michael has spent twenty years believing that boy stole the life meant for him.”
“He wasn’t even born into this.”
“That never mattered to Michael.”
“Who raised Thomas’s son?”
Vale looked at Sebastian.
“A Moretti employee.”
Sebastian felt pieces moving together.
“Nineteen years,” he whispered.
Maria looked at him.
She had arrived at the Moretti house as a teenager.
But who else?
Sebastian mentally reviewed old staff.
Drivers.
Gardeners.
Housekeepers.
His father’s soldiers.
Then one face came back.
A quiet couple who had managed the Moretti Lake Geneva property.
Frank and Susan DeLuca.
They had a son.
Anthony.
Sebastian stood.
“No.”
Carlo’s face changed.
“What?”
“Anthony.”
Silence.
Sebastian continued.
“He’s twenty-nine.”
Carlo stared.
“He was adopted.”
Daniel whispered, “Jesus.”
Anthony had worked beside Sebastian for twelve years.
Carlo had recruited him.
Without knowing he was Thomas’s son.
Evelyn had hidden the baby inside the family itself.
Sebastian called Anthony.
No answer.
Again.
Then a text arrived from his number.
I KNOW.
Sebastian’s pulse jumped.
Another:
MICHAEL FOUND ME FIRST.
Then coordinates.
Lake Geneva.
The old Moretti summer estate.
Sebastian showed Carlo.
His father whispered, “That’s where we sent you in 1997.”
Exactly.
The surviving infant had apparently been hidden on the same estate where seven-year-old Sebastian spent the summer.
He might have walked past his baby cousin without knowing.
They drove north immediately.
No police convoy.
Michael had warned Anthony that visible law enforcement would get Thomas killed.
Sebastian, Carlo, Daniel, and Maria went.
Donovan followed at distance.
The lake house stood dark.
Inside, Thomas sat tied to a dining chair.
Anthony knelt nearby with blood on his forehead.
Michael Vale stood between them.
He held a pistol.
When Sebastian entered, Michael smiled.
“The whole family.”
“Let them go.”
Michael looked at Maria.
“Bring the fifth recording.”
“We don’t have it.”
“Liar.”
“I never did.”
Michael’s hand tightened around the pistol.
“You knew my father.”
“I was twelve.”
“Your mother knew.”
“She died.”
“Because of them.”
He pointed toward the Morettis.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Your father destroyed twenty-eight years of my life.”
Michael swung the gun toward him.
“Don’t.”
Sebastian raised both hands.
“Michael.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“What do you want to be called?”
The question startled him.
Sebastian continued.
“Gabriel?”
Michael’s eyes flickered.
“That’s not your name either.”
“I know.”
“Then stop fighting for another man’s identity.”
Michael’s jaw clenched.
“You had everything.”
“No.”
Sebastian glanced around at his resurrected father, imprisoned uncle, betrayed security chief, frightened Maria, and broken families.
“I had a very expensive collection of lies.”
Anthony almost laughed despite his injuries.
Thomas looked at him.
“My son?”
Anthony met his eyes.
For the first time, both men understood.
Thomas began crying.
Anthony stared at the floor.
Michael shouted, “STOP!”
Everyone went still.
He pressed the gun to Anthony’s temple.
“You don’t get a reunion.”
Sebastian’s voice dropped.
“Why not?”
“Because nobody came for me.”
There it was.
Not inheritance.
Not power.
Abandonment.
Vale had raised a child to believe another boy had stolen his family.
Sebastian stepped closer.
“Your father came for you.”
Michael laughed.
“My father used me.”
“Yes.”
“And you think that makes me feel better?”
“No.”
Sebastian continued moving.
“But killing Anthony won’t make him love you correctly.”
Michael’s eyes filled.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know what it feels like to learn your father designed your life without asking you.”
Carlo lowered his head.
Michael hesitated.
That was enough.
Anthony twisted.
Thomas kicked Michael’s knee.
The pistol fired.
Maria screamed.
Sebastian tackled Michael.
The gun slid across the floor.
Daniel grabbed it.
Federal agents rushed in.
Michael stopped fighting.
Then everyone heard Carlo gasp.
Sebastian turned.
His father stood beside Maria.
Blood spread across Carlo’s shirt.
The bullet had struck him.
“Dad.”
Sebastian caught him.
Carlo collapsed.
As agents restrained Michael, Carlo grabbed Sebastian’s wrist.
“There’s one more thing.”
“Save it.”
“Listen.”
“Ambulance!”
Carlo pulled him closer.
“Evelyn’s fifth recording.”
Sebastian stared.
“I know where it is.”
“Where?”
May you like
Carlo’s voice weakened.
“In your mother’s grave.”
