Chapter 3 - The Boy With My Family’s Eyes
I had faced prosecutors, killers, federal raids, and funeral homes without losing control.
A seven-year-old boy destroyed it in one sentence.
“My brother had a son?”
Nora nodded.
“You were pregnant when Daniel died.”
“Yes.”
“And nobody told me.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Three months after Daniel’s funeral.”
She looked toward the stairs.
“Carmine met me before I reached your house.”
I felt something dark move through me.
“What did he say?”
“That your family wanted nothing to do with me.”
“I never knew you existed.”
“I know that now.”
“He threatened you?”
“At first, no.”
Nora’s voice became quieter.
“He offered money. I refused.”
“Then?”
“He told me Daniel’s death had been a warning.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“He said if I brought Daniel’s child into the DeLuca family, the people who killed Daniel would kill the baby too.”
A sick realization formed.
“You believed the explosion was caused by rivals.”
“So did you.”
“Yes.”
Nora looked directly at me.
“What if it wasn’t?”
We resumed climbing.
My father’s study stood on the third floor.
We emerged behind the private library.
The estate sounded strangely calm.
Too calm.
I touched my earpiece.
Nothing.
“They jammed communications,” I said.
Nora whispered, “Someone is coming.”
We stepped behind a velvet curtain.
Two men passed the library entrance.
One wore tactical gear.
The other wore my security uniform.
Betrayal had entered deeper than I thought.
When they disappeared, Nora breathed again.
I pointed toward the staircase.
“Stay behind me.”
“You said my grip was wrong.”
“It is.”
“You want your gun back?”
“You’re safer with it.”
Nora studied me.
“Was that concern?”
“Don’t make it embarrassing.”
We reached my father’s study.
I entered a six-digit code.
The lock clicked.
Nora frowned.
“You said it had been locked for years.”
“I said nobody enters.”
“You remembered the code?”
“It’s Daniel’s birthday.”
Her expression changed.
I opened the door.
Dust covered the room.
My father’s desk remained untouched.
Nora immediately walked toward a wall of books.
“Daniel told me there was a compartment behind the third shelf.”
“You remembered that for eight years?”
“I remembered everything he told me.”
She pulled three books out.
Nothing.
I tried the molding.
A wooden panel released.
Inside sat a narrow metal case.
Nora inhaled sharply.
“That’s it.”
I placed it on the desk.
Locked.
I broke the latch.
Inside were documents.
Bank transfers.
Shell companies.
Security schedules.
And photographs.
One showed Carmine meeting with men from the same rival organization blamed for Daniel’s murder.
The date was two weeks before Daniel died.
“Son of a—”
Nora touched another document.
“Look.”
A payment of $1.8 million.
Authorized by C. Vale.
Recipient: Mercer Demolition Holdings.
Three days before Daniel’s car exploded.
I stared at the paper until the letters blurred.
“Carmine killed him.”
Nora whispered, “Maybe.”
“No.”
My voice was cold.
“He killed my brother.”
A sound came from the doorway.
“Technically, your father ordered it.”
We turned.
Carmine Vale stood there.
Gray tuxedo.
Perfect hair.
Pistol in hand.
The man who had called me brother for twenty-four years smiled sadly.
“Hello, Luca.”
Nora raised her revolver.
Carmine barely glanced at her.
“You’ve been extremely inconvenient.”
“You threatened my son,” she said.
“Your son was never supposed to exist.”
My finger tightened around my pistol.
“Be careful.”
Carmine looked at me.
“Still protective of family.”
“You murdered Daniel.”
“I followed orders.”
“My father ordered you to kill his own son?”
“Daniel was going to leave.”
“So?”
“So he knew things.”
Carmine shrugged.
“Your father believed the family survived because nobody walked away.”
Nora whispered, “Monster.”
Carmine smiled.
“Vittorio was many things. Sentimental was not one of them.”
“And you?” I asked.
“Me?”
“You waited eight years.”
His smile widened.
“I learned patience.”
“What do you want?”
“Everything you inherited.”
“Then tonight is about control.”
“It was always about control.”
Nora glanced at me.
Carmine noticed.
“Don’t look at him for rescue, sweetheart.”
He stepped closer.
“Luca is exactly like his father.”
“No,” Nora said.
Carmine laughed.
“You’ve known him three weeks.”
“I knew his brother.”
“That doesn’t mean you know Luca.”
“No.”
Nora’s voice steadied.
“But Luca heard he had a nephew fifteen minutes ago, and the first thing he did was move in front of me when strangers passed the hallway.”
I had not realized I had.
Carmine’s smile faded.
Then the lights went out.
Nora moved instantly.
A gunshot exploded.
I hit Carmine from the side.
We crashed into the desk.
His pistol slid across the floor.
“Run!” I yelled.
Nora did not.
Instead, she kicked the weapon under the bookcase.
Carmine drove an elbow into my ribs.
I hit him twice.
He grabbed a letter opener.
Nora smashed a brass lamp against his wrist.
The blade dropped.
Together we forced him to the floor.
I pressed my pistol against his chest.
Carmine laughed breathlessly.
“You kill me, you learn nothing.”
“I already learned enough.”
“No.”
His eyes gleamed.
“You haven’t learned where the boy is.”
Nora froze.
“What?”
Carmine smiled.
“Ethan isn’t at your sister’s apartment anymore.”
Nora’s face went white.
“He’s at school.”
“Not since four this afternoon.”
She lunged.
“Where is my son?”
May you like
Carmine laughed.
“Now we can finally negotiate.”
