Chapter 8 - THE DEAD BROTHERPier 19 looked abandoned.
That meant nothing.
The warehouse stretched along the Hudson like a rusted grave.
Rain whipped across the dock.
Container cranes towered overhead.
Luca stood beside me inside the armored SUV.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“We’ve had this conversation.”
“This time I mean it.”
“You meant it all the other times.”
“You stay in the vehicle.”
“Charles wants the archive.”
“He wants you.”
“Same problem.”
Luca leaned closer.
“If something happens—”
“What?”
His jaw tightened.
I waited.
He looked toward the warehouse.
“When I thought Matteo died, I learned something.”
“What?”
“That sometimes surviving is worse than losing someone.”
I didn’t speak.
He looked at me.
“I don’t intend to learn it twice.”
The air changed.
I felt it.
He did too.
Neither of us moved.
Then Camille opened the SUV door.
“If you two are finished communicating exclusively through unresolved tension, we have movement.”
I almost laughed.
Luca looked murderous.
Camille didn’t care.
“North entrance.”
We stepped into the rain.
Yes.
I got out.
Luca stared at me.
“You are impossible.”
“So I’m told.”
We entered through a side door.
Dark.
Smell of salt and oil.
Rows of empty shipping crates.
A single light glowed fifty yards ahead.
Charles Cross stood beneath it.
Beside him sat a man in a chair.
Thin.
Scarred.
Mid-thirties.
Dark hair.
His face was unmistakably Moretti.
Luca stopped breathing.
“Matteo.”
The man lifted his head.
His eyes filled.
“Luca?”
That one word destroyed every wall in Luca’s face.
He took a step.
Charles raised a gun.
“Careful.”
Luca stopped.
Matteo strained against restraints.
“Don’t listen to him!”
Charles struck him.
Luca moved again.
Ten weapons appeared from the shadows.
Charles smiled.
“Family reunions.”
His gaze found me.
“Eleanor Ward.”
“Charles.”
“You opened the box.”
“Obviously.”
“Where is the archive?”
“Safe.”
“Nothing is safe.”
“Neither are you.”
He smiled.
“You inherited Margaret’s mouth.”
I wanted to hit him.
Luca spoke.
“Release my brother.”
“Give me the drive.”
“Release him.”
“Drive first.”
“No.”
Charles sighed.
“Your father was exactly like this.”
Luca’s body hardened.
“You knew him well.”
“Better than his children.”
Charles walked slowly.
“Antonio Moretti believed fear was loyalty.”
He looked at Matteo.
“Your brother learned differently.”
Matteo spat blood.
Charles smiled.
“I raised him.”
Luca’s face changed.
“What?”
“After the crash, my men reached the car before yours.”
Matteo looked at Luca.
“I thought you knew.”
“No.”
“I thought you left me.”
Luca flinched.
“No.”
“I was twelve!”
“I searched for you!”
Charles laughed.
“Touching.”
Luca’s voice became lethal.
“You kept a child prisoner.”
“Prisoner?”
Charles spread his hands.
“I educated him. Fed him. Gave him a new identity.”
Matteo shouted, “You beat me every time I asked about my family!”
Luca surged forward.
Guns lifted.
I grabbed his sleeve.
He stopped.
Barely.
Charles looked at me.
“Smart.”
I looked at Matteo.
His left wrist.
Scars.
But one detail caught my eye.
His shirt cuff.
Red stitch.
No.
Not again.
“Matteo.”
He looked at me.
“Your cuff.”
His eyes widened.
Charles turned.
Too late.
Matteo ripped his left sleeve.
A tiny metal capsule fell from the lining.
Smoke erupted.
He had planted it.
Matteo kicked the chair backward.
Chaos exploded.
Gunfire.
Moretti teams breached from both sides.
Luca tackled Charles.
I dropped behind a crate.
Camille fired above me.
Matteo rolled across the floor, still bound.
I crawled toward him.
“Hold still.”
“Who are you?”
“Tailor.”
“What?”
I cut his restraints with my scissors.
His eyes widened.
“You brought scissors to a gunfight?”
“They keep working.”
A man charged.
Matteo grabbed him and slammed him into a crate.
Apparently eighteen years had not made him fragile.
“Move!”
We ran.
Luca and Charles fought near the loading bay.
Charles pulled a knife.
Luca disarmed him.
Then could have killed him.
Didn’t.
He shoved Charles toward security.
“You’re going to prison.”
Charles laughed.
“You think I’m the end?”
Luca’s face hardened.
“No.”
“I’m the only reason you’re still alive.”
“What?”
Charles smiled through blood.
“Ask Matteo.”
Luca looked at his brother.
Matteo’s face went pale.
“Matteo?”
Charles laughed.
“He knows.”
“Knows what?”
Matteo looked at Luca.
“I worked for him.”
Silence.
Rain hammered the metal roof.
“What?”
Matteo’s voice cracked.
“I didn’t have a choice at first.”
“At first?”
“I was a kid.”
Luca stared.
“But later?”
Matteo looked away.
Charles grinned.
“He became excellent.”
Luca’s eyes darkened.
“At what?”
Charles answered.
“Killing Morettis.”
My blood turned cold.
Matteo shouted, “I never touched our family!”
“Not directly.”
Charles smiled.
“But contracts? Competitors? Security chiefs?”
Luca looked wounded in a way rage couldn’t hide.
“Were you at St. Gabriel’s?”
“No.”
“Did you know about the wedding plot?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
I whispered, “Why didn’t you warn him?”
Matteo’s eyes filled with shame.
“Because Charles said if I did, he’d kill Luca.”
Luca laughed once.
Bitter.
“He was trying to kill me anyway.”
“I know that now.”
Charles was dragged upright.
“You know nothing.”
He looked at Luca.
“Your brother is the reason Rafael survived.”
Luca froze.
Matteo nodded.
“I pulled him from the stairwell.”
“Why?”
“Because I recognized him.”
“From when?”
Matteo swallowed.
“He used to drive us to school.”
Luca’s face crumpled for half a second.
A childhood memory.
Something normal.
Charles watched them.
Then smiled.
“Beautiful.”
Camille shoved him.
“Walk.”
He laughed.
“You think this ends with me?”
I stepped forward.
“What does that mean?”
His gaze shifted to me.
“Your mother made one mistake.”
“What?”
“She assumed the archive contained the conspiracy.”
My stomach tightened.
“It doesn’t?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“It contains the membership list.”
Luca stared.
“Membership in what?”
Charles looked directly at him.
“The Crown.”
Gideon’s earlier files flashed in my memory.
Judges.
Military contractors.
Politicians.
Crime families.
Charles continued.
“For thirty years, wealthy men have pretended governments control nations.”
He chuckled.
“They don’t.”
Camille said, “Shut him up.”
He ignored her.
“The Crosses were never in charge.”
Luca narrowed his eyes.
“Who is?”
Charles smiled.
“Someone invited to your wedding.”
Silence.
“Someone who sat twenty feet from you.”
“Name.”
Charles laughed.
Then his expression suddenly changed.
He coughed.
Once.
Twice.
Blood appeared.
Camille grabbed him.
“Poison!”
He collapsed.
Same method as the mansion intruder.
A capsule?
No.
He hadn’t bitten anything.
His eyes rolled.
Matteo stared at the dead man.
Then toward the warehouse roof.
“Sniper!”
We moved.
A suppressed shot hit Charles again.
Insurance.
The shooter was gone before Luca’s men reached the roof.
On Charles’s body, Camille found a white card.
Embossed crown.
No words.
Matteo went pale.
“I’ve seen that.”
Luca turned.
“Where?”
“In his private safe.”
“What is it?”
“Invitation.”
“To what?”
Matteo looked at all of us.
“The Crown meets twice a year.”
“Where?”
“Never the same place.”
“When?”
Matteo looked at the card.
“Tomorrow.”
My stomach dropped.
Luca’s expression hardened.
“Who attends?”
“People Charles feared.”
“Names.”
“I only know one.”
“Who?”
Matteo swallowed.
“Senator Evelyn Shaw.”
Camille’s face changed.
Gideon had mentioned her in the cathedral guest list.
She had officiated Luca’s engagement gala six months earlier.
Luca stared.
“She was at St. Gabriel’s.”
Matteo nodded.
“She sits on the Senate Intelligence Committee.”
I whispered, “That’s why the archive matters.”
Camille nodded.
“Blackmail on public officials.”
Luca looked toward Charles’s body.
“No.”
“What?” I asked.
“He said the archive is the membership list.”
I understood.
“It isn’t blackmail.”
“It’s evidence of participation.”
Matteo looked at Luca.
“If Shaw knows you have it, she won’t stop.”
Luca’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered on speaker.
A woman’s voice.
Calm.
Refined.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Senator Shaw.
“Senator.”
“I’m sorry about Charles.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No.”
A pause.
“I understand you found something belonging to Margaret Ward.”
My skin crawled.
Luca said nothing.
Shaw continued.
“Bring the archive to the Metropolitan Club tomorrow at eight.”
“No.”
“Then we release the file proving your father ordered the bombing that killed forty-six civilians in 2004.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
“That file doesn’t exist.”
“It does.”
Matteo went pale.
Luca noticed.
“You know.”
Matteo whispered, “Luca…”
Shaw laughed softly.
“Ask your brother.”
Then the line ended.
Luca stared at Matteo.
“What happened in 2004?”
Matteo’s face broke.
“I was there.”
Silence.
He swallowed.
“And Antonio Moretti didn’t order the bombing.”
“Who did?”
Matteo looked toward Charles’s corpse.
“Senator Shaw.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“Why blame my father?”
“Because that’s how The Crown survives.”
Matteo’s voice shook.
“They make monsters out of men who can’t expose them.”
I looked at Luca.
Then at the archive case in Camille’s hands.
Tomorrow at eight.
The Crown expected us.
Luca turned toward me.
“You’re leaving New York tonight.”
I stared.
“No.”
His face hardened.
“This isn’t a debate.”
“Everything with you becomes a debate.”
“You are not walking into that room.”
“My mother built the evidence.”
“Exactly.”
“My father risked his life hiding it.”
“Yes.”
“And you think I’m leaving?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Matteo looked between us.
Then quietly asked Camille, “Are they always like this?”
Camille nodded.
“Unfortunately.”
Luca stepped close enough that only I heard him.
“If I lose you because of a war my father started—”
“You didn’t start it.”
“That won’t make you less dead.”
I touched his torn cuff.
“You saved me before you knew my name.”
His gaze dropped to my hand.
“My mother saved you before I knew yours.”
He looked at me.
“So maybe we stop letting dead parents make every decision.”
For a moment, the warehouse disappeared.
No guns.
No conspiracies.
Just Luca.
Just me.
He whispered, “You make that difficult.”
“What?”
“Keeping you at a distance.”
My breath caught.
Then Matteo called from behind us.
“Uh, Luca?”
We turned.
He was holding Charles’s phone.
Face pale.
“There’s a live video.”
The screen showed my father’s hospital room.
Daniel was asleep.
A nurse entered.
Except she wasn’t a nurse.
She locked the door.
May you like
Then pulled a syringe from her pocket.
And the video timer in the corner showed it was happening right now.
