Chapter 5 - THE BROTHER WHO NEVER CAME HOME
Salvatore Rossi had spent most of his life making other men afraid.
At four in the morning beneath a church in Queens, Tessa watched fear take control of him.
His oldest brother was supposed to have been dead since 1995.
“Name,” Gabriel said.
Salvatore did not answer quickly enough.
Eleanor did.
“Vittorio Rossi.”
Tessa looked between them.
“Another brother?”
“There were three Rossi sons,” Eleanor said. “Vittorio. Salvatore. Angelo.”
Gabriel's face was unreadable.
“And nobody thought to mention the third?”
Salvatore looked at him.
“Vittorio died before you were born.”
“Apparently not.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“I saw his body.”
Salvatore finally spoke.
“You saw a coffin.”
“No. I treated him after the shooting.”
The room went silent.
Eleanor looked disturbed now.
“He had a chest wound. Severe blood loss. I watched him stop breathing.”
“Where?”
“Palermo.”
Salvatore gripped his cane.
“I identified him.”
Gabriel looked again at the traffic image.
“Then either dead men walk into restaurants or somebody wants us to believe that's Vittorio.”
Tessa focused on the photograph.
The resemblance to Salvatore was disturbing.
Same posture.
Same heavy brow.
But something was different.
“He doesn't need to actually be Vittorio,” she said.
Salvatore looked at her.
“He only needs somebody to think he is.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Paul sent us to Table 14 and arranged for this man to be seen entering.”
“A performance,” Tessa said.
Salvatore's eyes narrowed.
“For me.”
“Why?”
The old man looked at Angelo's letters.
“Because Vittorio was involved with St. Agnes before Paul was.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“I didn't know until after Vittorio's death.”
Tessa felt the pattern repeating.
Everyone had known one piece.
Nobody had known all of it.
“What did Vittorio do?”
Salvatore sat.
“He moved money.”
“For the maternity home?”
“For people who used it.”
“Baby trafficking?”
Salvatore's jaw tightened.
“Sometimes.”
Gabriel looked disgusted.
“And you still worked with Paul afterward.”
“I thought Paul cleaned up what Vittorio had built.”
“He expanded it,” Eleanor said.
Salvatore nodded.
“Yes.”
The truth cost him something to say.
Tessa checked the time.
Fifteen minutes until Paul's deadline.
“My mother is still in that restaurant.”
Gabriel turned to his men.
“Get two teams around Il Vento. Nobody moves until I say.”
Salvatore stood.
“I'll go.”
“No.”
Gabriel didn't raise his voice.
“You were specifically told not to.”
“Which means Paul expects me to ignore that.”
“Or expects you to behave exactly like you always have and walk into his trap.”
Salvatore glared at him.
Gabriel didn't move.
For the first time, Tessa saw the power between them reverse.
Not because Gabriel owned more guns.
Because Salvatore's secrets had emptied his authority.
Tessa pocketed Angelo's transfer documents.
“What about me?”
Gabriel looked at her.
“You and I go through the front.”
Salvatore snapped, “Absolutely not.”
Tessa turned.
“I'm twenty-eight years old.”
“And Paul Mercer has been trying to control what happens to you since the day you were born.”
“Then hiding hasn't worked very well, has it?”
Salvatore flinched.
She immediately knew the sentence sounded like Angelo.
Maybe that was why Salvatore stopped arguing.
They reached Il Vento at 3:58.
The restaurant where the entire nightmare had begun looked completely different without diners.
Chairs were upside down on several tables.
Half the lights were off.
The polished windows reflected empty Manhattan streets.
Table 14 sat in the private rear dining room.
Tessa had served it hundreds of times.
She had never known why Richard refused to renumber the tables even after a renovation.
Now she understood.
Gabriel entered first.
Tessa followed.
Richard sat at Table 14.
His face was bruised.
His hands were zip-tied to the chair.
Maria sat across from him.
“Tessa.”
Tessa ran toward her.
Gabriel caught her arm.
“Wait.”
A speaker crackled overhead.
Paul Mercer's voice filled the dining room.
“Still cautious, Gabriel. Salvatore taught you something useful after all.”
Tessa looked around.
“Where are you?”
“Close enough.”
“Let my mother go.”
“Give Richard the transfer record.”
Richard shook his head violently.
“No.”
Everyone froze.
Paul's voice hardened.
“Richard.”
“Don't give me anything.”
Tessa stared at him.
“You were searching my purse.”
Richard nodded.
“Yes.”
“You sent the messages.”
“Yes.”
“You told someone to move me.”
His face tightened.
“I was warning them not to.”
Tessa remembered the voicemail.
He opened the book. Move the girl tonight.
She had assumed Richard was ordering someone.
“What did you mean?”
Richard looked at Gabriel.
“I knew my father had people watching the restaurant. I was telling my sister to move Tessa somewhere safe.”
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“Your sister?”
“She works for me.”
Paul's voice exploded through the speaker.
“Enough.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“What are you going to do? Kill me too?”
The word too changed the room.
Maria stared at Richard.
Tessa asked, “Who did he kill?”
Richard's eyes filled with something close to hatred.
“My mother.”
Paul said nothing.
Richard continued.
“Twelve years ago. The same week everyone was told he died.”
Gabriel looked toward the speakers.
“Why?”
“Because she threatened to tell Salvatore where he got you.”
Silence.
Even Maria stopped breathing loudly.
Gabriel stepped forward.
“Say that again.”
Richard looked at him.
“My mother knew where you came from.”
“Who was she?”
“Claire Mercer.”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
“Paul's wife.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel's face changed.
Tessa understood before anyone said it.
“No,” Richard said.
He shook his head.
“Not what you're thinking.”
Gabriel's expression remained cold.
“You're saying I'm your brother.”
“My father wanted me to believe that.”
“Are you?”
Richard looked toward the camera in the corner.
“I don't know.”
Paul's voice came over the speaker.
“He is.”
Richard closed his eyes.
Gabriel stared at nothing.
Paul continued.
“You wanted truth, son?”
Gabriel's face became stone.
“Don't call me that.”
A door opened behind the bar.
Paul Mercer entered.
He was seventy or close to it.
Tall.
Trim.
Completely gray.
And alive.
Beside him stood the man who looked like Salvatore.
Tessa understood immediately why the traffic camera had been convincing.
The resemblance was extraordinary.
But up close, the difference was clear.
This man was a few years younger.
And his eyes were pale blue.
Paul smiled.
“Gabriel Rossi.”
He turned toward Tessa.
“Theresa.”
She hated the way he said her name.
Like he had owned it longer than she had.
“You burned St. Agnes.”
“I burned a room.”
“You took my mother.”
“She was always part of the arrangement.”
Maria looked at Tessa.
“Don't listen to him.”
Paul ignored her.
He gestured toward the man beside him.
“Do you recognize him, Salvatore?”
Nothing happened.
Paul's smile faded.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“Yes.”
Salvatore entered.
Gabriel swore.
“You were supposed to stay outside.”
The old man looked only at the stranger.
“Marco.”
Paul's expression shifted.
The stranger smiled.
So he wasn't Vittorio.
Salvatore walked closer.
“Vittorio's son.”
Tessa looked at the man.
Another Rossi.
Marco nodded.
“My father survived Palermo for nine hours.”
Eleanor had believed he died.
Apparently Vittorio had lived long enough for something else.
“He told me what you did,” Marco said.
Salvatore frowned.
“What I did?”
“You stole everything.”
“I inherited what remained after he died.”
“You inherited because Paul erased my existence.”
Gabriel looked at Paul.
“So that's the game.”
Paul smiled.
“At last.”
Tessa understood.
Not one replacement.
Two.
Gabriel had been placed inside Salvatore's household.
Marco had been erased from Vittorio's branch.
Tessa had been hidden from Angelo's.
Paul had spent decades controlling every potential Rossi heir.
“Why?” Tessa asked.
Paul looked almost amused.
“Because powerful families are easiest to own when none of the children know who they are.”
Richard stared at his father with disgust.
Paul reached into his jacket.
Gabriel's gun came up.
Paul stopped.
Slowly.
“What do you want?” Gabriel asked.
Paul smiled.
“Everything Salvatore spent thirty years pretending belonged to him.”
Marco moved behind Maria.
Tessa tensed.
Paul held out his hand.
“The transfer record.”
“No.”
Paul sighed.
“Tessa.”
“My father died hiding it from you.”
“Your father died because he mistook morality for strategy.”
That did it.
Tessa stepped forward.
“You don't get to talk about him.”
Paul smiled.
“You barely knew him.”
“I knew enough.”
“No. You knew an old man across a hallway.”
Tessa's eyes burned.
Paul continued.
“You never knew why he waited until you were twenty-four to move close.”
She froze.
Salvatore's expression changed.
Paul saw it.
“Oh.”
He smiled wider.
“He didn't tell you that either.”
Tessa looked at Salvatore.
“What?”
Paul answered.
“Angelo didn't move across the hall because he finally felt safe.”
Tessa's stomach tightened.
“He moved there because someone had found you.”
“Who?”
Paul turned toward Richard.
Richard went pale.
“No.”
Tessa looked at him.
“Who found me?”
May you like
Richard whispered:
“I did.”
