Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER VINCENT HAD BURIED TWICE
Vincent did not go alone.
He simply made Samuel believe he did.
The old docks had been abandoned since a fire gutted the shipping warehouses eight years earlier.
Fog rolled off the river.
Rusting cranes stood like skeletons against the night.
Vincent stepped from his car carrying one metal case.
Inside were copies.
The originals were somewhere Samuel would never find them.
His father had once told him the difference between bravery and stupidity was usually a backup plan.
Vincent had ignored much of his father’s advice when he was young.
Not anymore.
“Samuel!”
His voice carried across the warehouse.
A light came on.
Sophia sat in a chair near the center.
Hands tied loosely in front of her.
She was crying but unharmed.
Vincent’s rage turned cold.
Samuel stepped behind her.
He was sixty-seven now.
Elegant silver hair.
Perfectly tailored coat.
The same calm expression he wore at family dinners.
“Vincent.”
“Let the child go.”
“Still sentimental.”
“She has nothing to do with this.”
“She has everything to do with this.”
Samuel touched Sophia’s shoulder.
“Marco should never have created something he couldn’t abandon.”
Sophia jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Definitely Marco’s daughter.
“Where is he?” Vincent demanded.
Samuel looked toward the dark upper walkway.
A man was pushed forward.
Vincent forgot how to breathe.
Fifteen years disappeared.
Marco Castellano stood beneath the warehouse light.
Older.
Thinner.
Blood dried near one eyebrow.
His beard was streaked with gray.
But it was him.
Those same eyes.
That same crooked angle to his shoulders.
The same man Vincent had once trusted more than himself.
Marco looked down.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke.
What could either man possibly say?
Sorry you tried to have me murdered?
Sorry I stayed dead for fifteen years?
Samuel laughed.
“Touching.”
Vincent ignored him.
“Marco.”
Marco’s mouth twisted.
“Vinny.”
Only one person had ever called him that without permission.
Vincent’s chest tightened.
“You look terrible.”
Marco gave a weak laugh.
“You always were bad at reunions.”
For one insane second, Vincent nearly laughed too.
Then Samuel drew a pistol and everything became real again.
“You have the evidence?”
Vincent raised the case.
“Right here.”
“Slide it over.”
“Let Sophia go.”
Samuel sighed.
“You’re not negotiating from strength.”
Vincent looked directly at Sophia.
She was watching him.
Not Samuel.
Him.
Trusting him because her father had told her to.
Vincent slid the case halfway.
“Release her.”
Samuel nodded to one of his men.
The ropes were cut.
Sophia stood.
“Walk to Vincent.”
She ran.
Vincent caught her.
Her arms locked around him.
“Daddy!”
Marco strained against the two men holding him.
“I’m okay, baby.”
Sophia cried harder.
Vincent whispered, “Go behind that column.”
“I want Daddy.”
“You’ll get him.”
She looked at him.
“Promise?”
Vincent thought about every promise he had broken in his life.
“Yes.”
This one he meant to keep.
Sophia ran behind the steel column.
Samuel opened the case.
He removed one page.
His face changed.
“Copies.”
Vincent smiled.
“Of course.”
Samuel looked up.
“You never were this cautious.”
“I had a good teacher.”
“Your father?”
“No.”
Vincent looked at Marco.
“My brother.”
Marco’s expression broke for half a second.
Samuel’s face hardened.
Then all hell erupted.
Tony’s men entered from the south door.
Two more appeared on the catwalk.
Samuel shouted.
Marco drove his shoulder into one captor.
Vincent moved toward him.
A gunshot cracked.
Marco fell.
“DADDY!”
Sophia screamed.
Vincent reached Marco first.
Blood spread across his side.
“Stay with me.”
Marco stared up.
“You said that before.”
Vincent froze.
Fifteen years ago.
After Marco had been stabbed outside a club, Vincent held him in an alley and said the exact same thing.
Marco had survived.
“Do it again,” Vincent said.
“What?”
“Survive me again.”
Marco coughed.
“Demanding bastard.”
Tony’s men secured two shooters.
Samuel ran toward the loading dock.
Vincent started after him.
Marco grabbed his sleeve.
“Vinny.”
Vincent looked down.
“Not him.”
“What?”
“My daughter.”
Sophia was frozen behind the column.
Terrified.
Vincent understood.
Samuel could wait.
Family couldn’t.
Vincent went to her.
She threw herself at him.
“Is Daddy dying?”
“No.”
“You don’t know!”
She beat her fists against his chest.
“You don’t know!”
Vincent caught her wrists gently.
“You’re right.”
Her face crumpled.
“I don’t know.”
He swallowed.
“But the ambulance is coming, and your father is stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Sophia sobbed against him.
Behind them, Marco was loaded onto a stretcher.
His eyes searched until they found his daughter.
“I’m okay, Soph.”
She ran beside the stretcher.
Vincent followed.
At the hospital, surgeons took Marco immediately.
Vincent waited with Sophia.
For five hours.
He did not make calls.
Did not threaten doctors.
Did not issue orders.
He simply sat beside the little girl.
At 4:16 a.m., the surgeon appeared.
“He’s alive.”
Sophia started crying.
Vincent closed his eyes.
“The bullet missed major organs. There was significant blood loss, but he should recover.”
“Can I see him?” Sophia asked.
“Soon.”
She hugged Vincent.
He stood frozen for one second.
Then slowly wrapped his arms around her.
Over Sophia’s shoulder, Tony appeared.
His expression told Vincent the night was not finished.
“What?”
Tony waited until Sophia was speaking to a nurse.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Samuel got away.”
Vincent’s jaw hardened.
“We expected that possibility.”
“There’s more.”
Tony handed him a phone.
An old security photograph filled the screen.
Samuel standing with two men.
One was recognizable.
Marco.
From fifteen years ago.
The other man made Vincent’s stomach drop.
His father.
The date on the image was three months before Vincent’s father died.
Tony whispered:
“We found Marco’s full files.”
Vincent stared.
“Samuel wasn’t working alone.”
Tony looked at him grimly.
“According to Marco, your father knew part of what Samuel was doing.”
Vincent looked toward the operating wing.
The reunion he had prayed for had just become another nightmare.
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Because if Marco’s evidence was real, Vincent’s father might not have been the man he spent his entire life trying to honor.
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