Chapter 6 - THE BULLET THAT BROUGHT THE TRUTH HOME
The south warehouse smelled exactly as I remembered Moretti properties smelling.
Cold steel.
Diesel.
Dust.
Money.
Matteo had lost the argument about bringing me.
Mostly because Enzo sided with me.
Matteo informed Enzo that betrayal would be remembered.
Enzo replied, “She scares me more.”
For the first time in years, I liked him.
The children remained at the estate with Teresa and twelve security officers.
I checked the cameras three times before leaving.
Emma had waved.
Oliver had held up two cookies.
I promised myself we would be back before they slept.
We weren’t.
The archive beneath the warehouse had been broken into thirty minutes before our arrival.
Steel cabinets stood open.
Documents covered the floor.
Matteo crouched beside an empty safe.
“Gray Harbor records are gone.”
“Anything else?”
“My father’s personal ledger.”
Enzo entered.
“Boss, we found a man.”
Alive.
Barely.
He was in the loading bay.
I recognized him before Matteo did.
“Carlo?”
The man’s swollen eyes opened.
“Sophia?”
Carlo Vitale had been Matteo’s driver when I knew him.
He had disappeared two days after I fled.
I had assumed Matteo killed him for helping me.
Matteo had apparently assumed Carlo betrayed him and ran.
We were both wrong.
I knelt.
Carlo had a gunshot wound below his ribs.
“Call an ambulance.”
Enzo moved.
Carlo grabbed my sleeve.
“No hospital.”
“You’ll die without one.”
“Then listen fast.”
Matteo crouched beside him.
“Where have you been?”
Carlo looked at him.
“Keeping Julian from finding her.”
My breath stopped.
“What?”
Carlo coughed.
Blood touched his lip.
“He knew Vaughn gave Sophia papers. He planned to follow her until the baby was born.”
Matteo’s face went white.
“You knew she was pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I tried.”
Carlo grimaced.
“Julian caught me first.”
“What did he do?”
“Locked me in one of his properties. Months. Then offered me a choice.”
Matteo’s voice was ice.
“What choice?”
“Work for him or he sends men to Sophia.”
I stared.
“You protected us?”
Carlo looked at me.
“As much as I could.”
“Why?”
His expression softened.
“Because your daughter was innocent.”
I swallowed.
Carlo reached beneath his jacket.
He removed a small flash drive.
“This is everything.”
Matteo took it.
“What?”
“Transfers. Vaughn. Cassandra. Celeste.”
Matteo froze.
“What about Celeste?”
Carlo closed his eyes.
“Julian killed her too.”
Silence exploded inside the room.
Matteo stopped breathing.
“No.”
“He found out she was asking questions about Gray Harbor.”
Matteo shook his head once.
“Her accident—”
“Wasn’t.”
The sound Matteo made was almost inaudible.
I saw his entire body go rigid.
Oliver’s mother.
His wife.
A woman he had grown to love.
Dead because the same man who had stolen six years from us needed more power.
Carlo gripped Matteo’s coat.
“I’m sorry.”
Matteo’s face became terrifyingly empty.
“Where is he?”
“He’ll come for the drive.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
The lights went out.
Everything went black.
Enzo shouted.
“Down!”
Gunfire erupted from the far side of the warehouse.
I threw myself over Carlo.
Matteo dragged both of us behind a steel column.
His men returned fire.
Sparks exploded from a railing.
Someone shouted upstairs.
Footsteps.
Then another shot.
Matteo jerked.
I knew before he fell.
“Matteo!”
He hit one knee.
Blood spread across his side.
My brain changed instantly.
Not lover.
Not fear.
Patient.
“Pressure.”
I shoved both hands against the wound.
He looked at me.
“Carlo.”
“Enzo has him.”
“Sophia, leave.”
“Shut up.”
He almost smiled.
“Still bossy.”
“Keep talking.”
Gunfire moved farther away.
His men were pushing the attackers back.
Matteo’s face grew pale.
“Emma.”
“She’s safe.”
“Promise me—”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“You are not giving me a dying-man speech.”
His eyes fluttered.
“Wasn’t planning to die.”
“Excellent. Keep that attitude.”
I pressed harder.
He groaned.
“Sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“No.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Then his hand covered mine.
“I looked for you.”
My throat closed.
“Not now.”
“Everywhere.”
“Matteo.”
“I never stopped loving you.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“You picked a terrible moment.”
“Thought I might lose the opportunity.”
“You’re not losing anything.”
His eyes closed.
“Look at me.”
He opened them.
“Emma has your temper.”
“She has yours.”
“Poor kid.”
I laughed through tears.
Then the gunfire stopped.
Enzo appeared.
“Clear!”
“Ambulance now!”
“They’re coming.”
Matteo’s hand weakened over mine.
I leaned close.
“You do not get to find your daughter and leave her the same night.”
His eyes focused.
“That an order?”
“Yes.”
A faint smile.
“Yes, ma’am.”
At the hospital, surgeons removed the bullet.
It had missed his liver by less than an inch.
Carlo survived too.
By dawn, the flash drive had been copied six times.
Julian’s world began collapsing.
Bank transfers.
Messages.
Audio recordings.
Payments to Vaughn.
Payments to Cassandra’s handlers.
A photograph of Julian meeting with the mechanic who had inspected Celeste’s car before her death.
And one file that made Matteo’s attorney sit down.
An audio recording from six years earlier.
Julian’s voice.
“Once Sophia believes Matteo wants her dead, she’ll run. She’s smart enough to disappear and frightened enough never to contact him.”
Another man asked, “What about the baby?”
Julian laughed.
“If it’s born, we deal with it later.”
I listened once.
Then I turned it off.
For six years, I had wondered whether I had been foolish.
Weak.
Cowardly.
I finally understood.
I had been hunted.
There was a difference.
At 9:15 that morning, I entered Matteo’s hospital room.
He was awake.
Pale.
Angry about being in bed.
Very Matteo.
“Where are the children?”
“On the way.”
He tried sitting.
“Don’t.”
“I’m fine.”
“You were shot.”
“I’ve been shot before.”
“And apparently learned nothing.”
The door opened.
Emma ran in first.
She stopped when she saw him.
Her face crumpled.
“You got hurt.”
Matteo softened.
“I’m okay.”
She approached slowly.
Then climbed carefully beside him.
“Mom says people die when they get shot.”
I closed my eyes.
“Emma.”
“What?”
Matteo smiled faintly.
“Your mom is right. Sometimes.”
Emma touched his bandage.
“Are you going to die?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
Matteo looked at me.
Then her.
“I promise I’m going to try very hard not to.”
Emma nodded.
Acceptable.
Then Oliver climbed onto the other side.
“Daddy.”
Matteo kissed his hair.
For a moment they were simply three people in a hospital bed.
Then Emma looked at Matteo.
“Mom told me something.”
My heart stopped.
Matteo looked at me.
“What?”
Emma smiled.
“You’re my dad.”
Silence.
I had told her in the car.
Carefully.
Simply.
Without explaining guns or lies.
Matteo looked at Emma.
His eyes filled.
I had never seen Matteo Moretti cry.
Not once.
He did now.
One tear.
Then another.
Emma touched his face.
“Are you sad?”
He laughed brokenly.
“No.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I missed you.”
She frowned.
“But you didn’t know me.”
“I know.”
“That’s weird.”
“It is.”
Emma considered him.
“Do I have to call you Dad?”
“No.”
“Can I someday?”
Matteo’s voice disappeared.
He nodded.
“When you want.”
Emma smiled.
“Okay, Matteo.”
Oliver laughed.
And for the first time since a little boy knocked on my door, I felt something I had not allowed myself in six years.
Hope.
Then Enzo entered.
His expression destroyed it.
“We have a problem.”
Matteo looked up.
“What?”
“Julian knows Carlo survived.”
“And?”
“He’s disappeared.”
“Find him.”
“We’re trying.”
Enzo’s eyes moved to me.
“He left a message.”
My skin turned cold.
“What message?”
Enzo handed me a photograph.
Emma leaving school two days earlier.
Written across the bottom:
YOU TOOK SIX YEARS FROM HIM.
May you like
I’LL TAKE ONE THING FROM YOU.
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