Chapter 8 - The Debt Fathers Leave Their Sons
Dominic did not deny it.
That made Vincent angrier.
“My father ordered your death.”
The computer room fell silent.
Vincent stared at him.
“And you knew?”
“Not when I came to work for you.”
“When?”
“Eleven years ago.”
Vincent stepped closer.
Dominic remained still.
“Eleven years.”
“Yes.”
“You stood beside me every day.”
“Yes.”
“You ate at my table.”
“Yes.”
“You buried men beside me.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew your father tried to have me murdered.”
Dominic looked directly at him.
“My father also tried to have me murdered.”
Vincent stopped.
Dominic’s voice remained calm.
“Antonio Salerno believed sons existed to continue a family name. When I refused, he decided I was useless.”
Clara watched him.
“Why didn’t you tell Vincent?”
“Because dead fathers create living wars.”
Vincent laughed bitterly.
“Convenient philosophy.”
“Would knowing have changed anything?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Vincent had no answer.
Dominic stepped closer.
“My father died twelve years ago. Yours died fourteen years ago. We have spent our adult lives cleaning blood spilled by men already buried.”
His voice lowered.
“I chose you.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Every day for fifteen years, I chose you.”
That landed harder than an apology.
Hannah watched Vincent’s anger change.
Not disappear.
Change.
Marcus interrupted.
“Sentiment later.”
He pointed toward the monitors.
“We have approximately three minutes before armed teams reach this floor.”
Vincent looked at the Ledger.
“Upload everything.”
Clara shook her head.
“No.”
Hannah turned.
“You said exposure was the only way.”
“It is. But not all of it.”
Clara approached the computer.
“There are innocent names inside these files.”
“Who?”
“Children. spouses. witnesses. people used as leverage.”
Hannah understood.
“If we dump everything, we expose victims too.”
“Yes.”
Marcus checked the door camera.
“We don’t have time to redact thousands of files.”
Hannah looked at the system.
“Can we send it somewhere else?”
Vincent understood.
“Federal prosecutors.”
Dominic laughed.
“Which ones? The Ledger probably owns several.”
Clara looked at a file.
“There was one investigator.”
“Who?”
“Rebecca Sloan.”
Marcus searched.
“Retired federal prosecutor. Seventy-one. Lives in Virginia.”
Clara nodded.
“She helped me before the fire.”
“Can we trust her?”
“No,” Clara said.
Everyone stared.
She added, “But we can trust what she prepared.”
Marcus frowned.
“What did she prepare?”
“A dead-man protocol.”
Clara entered an old code.
A secure server appeared.
Rebecca had built an automated distribution network decades earlier.
Selected journalists.
Federal inspectors.
Internal affairs offices.
Judges outside Illinois.
International financial investigators.
Vincent looked impressed.
“She expected all of you to be compromised.”
Clara smiled faintly.
“She was usually right.”
They uploaded the Ledger.
Marcus watched the progress bar.
32%.
Footsteps entered the corridor.
Vincent drew his gun.
Dominic joined him.
Hannah looked toward them.
“Don’t die.”
Vincent glanced back.
“Wasn’t planning to.”
“That seems like a weak plan.”
He almost smiled.
Then gunfire erupted.
Marcus barricaded the door.
47%.
Bullets tore through the wood.
Clara worked faster.
58%.
Hannah saw a second entrance on the security feed.
“Marcus.”
He turned.
Too late.
The side door burst open.
Gabriel entered.
His shirt was soaked with blood.
Gun raised.
“Step away.”
Everyone froze.
Vincent turned his weapon.
Gabriel aimed at Hannah.
Vincent stopped.
“Still using her as a shield?”
Gabriel’s face twisted.
“She’s my daughter.”
“Then act like it.”
Gabriel looked at Hannah.
“You don’t understand what happens if those files leave this room.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“No. You think truth fixes things.”
Hannah shook her head.
“No.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Truth gives people a choice.”
The upload reached 71%.
Gabriel fired at the computer.
Hannah shoved the monitor aside.
The bullet struck the wall.
Vincent fired.
Gabriel ducked.
Dominic tackled him.
The gun slid across the floor.
Clara screamed.
Gabriel punched Dominic and reached for the weapon.
Hannah got there first.
She picked it up.
Everyone stopped.
Gabriel stared at her.
“Hannah.”
She aimed.
Her hands trembled.
“Move away from him.”
“You won’t shoot me.”
“Don’t make me discover whether that’s true.”
Gabriel slowly stood.
The upload reached 84%.
His eyes softened.
“I held you when you were born.”
Hannah’s grip shook.
“You were so small.”
“Stop.”
“You wrapped your hand around my finger.”
“Stop.”
“I loved you.”
Hannah’s eyes filled.
“Then why did I grow up without you?”
Gabriel’s expression broke.
For the first time, there was no calculation.
Only grief.
“Because I chose revenge.”
Hannah stared.
Gabriel swallowed.
“And by the time I understood what it cost me, I didn’t know how to become anything else.”
The upload reached 93%.
Hannah lowered the gun slightly.
Vincent saw Gabriel’s eyes shift.
Toward the keyboard.
“Don’t.”
Gabriel lunged.
Vincent moved.
A gunshot exploded.
Clara screamed.
Someone fell.
Hannah dropped the weapon.
Vincent stood between her and Gabriel.
Blood spread across Vincent’s shirt.
“No.”
Hannah caught him before he hit the floor.
“Vincent!”
Gabriel froze.
He had not fired.
One of his men stood in the doorway.
Smoking gun in hand.
Gabriel turned.
“What did you do?”
The man raised the weapon again.
Gabriel shot him.
Once.
The man fell.
Vincent collapsed against Hannah.
“Stay with me.”
His breathing became shallow.
Marcus pressed both hands against the wound.
“Chest.”
Hannah’s face went white.
The upload reached 99%.
The screen flashed.
TRANSFER INTERRUPTED.
“No.”
Hannah stared.
The computer went dark.
Gabriel had pulled the power cable.
Vincent was bleeding beneath her hands.
May you like
The Ledger had failed to upload.
And somewhere outside the room, hundreds of armed men still believed Gabriel Moretti controlled their future.
