Chapter 7 - A Locked Door Beneath the Moretti Chapel
The old river property had once been the center of Moretti shipping.
Before container terminals modernized.
Before Aleandro’s father moved operations north.
Before the city replaced warehouses with luxury apartments and waterfront restaurants.
Warehouse Seven remained untouched.
People said Aleandro kept it for sentimental reasons.
The truth was simpler.
He had forgotten it existed.
At 11:20 p.m., Aleandro studied old blueprints inside Marco’s car.
“The chapel is here.”
Marco pointed.
“Warehouse is eighty yards east.”
“Underground connection?”
“Not on plans.”
“Then assume there is one.”
Marco looked at him.
“You’re not going inside tonight.”
“I wasn’t asking permission.”
“If Elena is there, it could be a trap.”
“It is a trap.”
“That sentence normally means we avoid it.”
“It means we enter knowing what it is.”
Marco sighed.
“Sometimes I miss when you were twenty and stupid in more predictable ways.”
Aleandro ignored him.
They did not storm the building.
That was what the enemy expected.
Instead, Aleandro contacted Sofia Bellini.
Daniel had one emergency address she supposedly checked every twelve hours.
Marco left a handwritten message.
ELENA FOUND YOUR HUSBAND’S FILE.
NORTHSTAR KILLED HIM.
WE NEED YOUR HELP.
At 1:06 a.m., a burner phone rang.
Sofia.
Her voice was shaking.
“Who told you?”
“Aleandro Moretti.”
Silence.
Then, “You shouldn’t know I’m alive.”
“Neither should Vittorio.”
Another silence.
“He does.”
“Where is Elena?”
“I lost her.”
“How?”
“I took her north. Vittorio’s people found the farmhouse.”
“Who?”
“My brother.”
“Tomas?”
“He didn’t have a choice.”
Aleandro’s voice hardened.
“Everyone has a choice.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then make me.”
Sofia began crying quietly.
“Vittorio has Tomas’s son.”
Aleandro closed his eyes.
Another child.
Another leverage point.
“Tomas has a son?”
“Ten years old. Lives with his mother in Montreal. Vittorio brought him here three days ago.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sofia.”
“I swear.”
Aleandro believed her.
“What happened at the farmhouse?”
“Tomas came. Elena refused to go. Then he showed us a live video of his son.”
“And Elena surrendered to save him?”
“Yes.”
Of course she had.
Elena Rossi had been terrified for her own daughter, yet when confronted with another frightened child, she surrendered.
Aleandro was beginning to understand the woman who had worked quietly inside his home for four years.
“Where did Tomas take her?”
“The old river warehouse.”
Confirmation.
“Is she alive?”
“She was two hours ago.”
“What do they want?”
“You.”
Aleandro looked at Marco.
“Adrian?”
Sofia went silent.
“You know about him.”
“Yes.”
“He hates you.”
“Why?”
“He believes your father stole everything from his father.”
Aleandro frowned.
Adrian’s father, Lorenzo Moretti, had been Aleandro’s uncle.
He died when Adrian was seventeen.
“Lorenzo had no empire to steal.”
“That’s not what Adrian believes.”
“What does he believe?”
“That your father arranged Lorenzo’s death and took his companies.”
Aleandro turned toward the dark river.
“That’s a lie.”
“Maybe.”
Sofia’s voice grew quieter.
“But Vittorio spent years making Adrian believe it.”
There it was.
Not just money.
Revenge.
Manufactured carefully over nine years.
“Why fake Adrian’s death?”
“To remove him. Train him. Give him a reason to become someone else.”
Aleandro felt sick.
Vittorio had not simply betrayed the family.
He had built an enemy from inside it.
“When is the transfer?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“What happens?”
“I don’t know everything. Your accounts are frozen at midnight. Several lieutenants have been told you plan to abandon them. Adrian appears with documents proving you stole from them.”
“Forged.”
“Yes.”
“And Elena?”
“She proves the conspiracy if she talks.”
“So they kill her.”
Sofia did not answer.
Aleandro did not need her to.
“What is beneath the river chapel?”
“How do you know?”
“Answer.”
“A tunnel.”
Marco was right.
“It connects to Warehouse Seven?”
“Yes.”
“Entrances?”
“One inside chapel. One loading bay. One storm drain near river.”
Aleandro looked at Marco.
That was enough.
They reached the storm drain at 2:18.
Water covered their shoes.
The tunnel smelled of rust and river mud.
Aleandro, Marco, and two men moved silently.
Near the warehouse, voices echoed.
Aleandro stopped.
Tomas Bellini stood twenty feet ahead.
Alone.
He had expected them.
His weapon remained lowered.
“Aleandro.”
“Where is Elena?”
“Alive.”
“Your son?”
Tomas’s face broke.
“I don’t know.”
“We can help him.”
“If you could, I wouldn’t be standing here.”
“You betrayed me.”
“I betrayed everybody.”
Tomas’s eyes were exhausted.
“Every decision I make gets someone hurt.”
Aleandro stepped closer.
“Then make one good decision.”
Tomas laughed bitterly.
“You think it works like that?”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised him.
Aleandro continued.
“One good decision does not erase the bad ones. But it decides what happens next.”
Tomas looked toward the warehouse.
“Adrian is here.”
“Vittorio?”
“No.”
“Where?”
“Your mansion.”
Aleandro froze.
“What?”
Tomas gave him the final piece.
“This warehouse was never the target.”
Aleandro’s stomach dropped.
“Mia.”
Tomas nodded.
“Vittorio knows the memory card was in the rabbit.”
Aleandro turned toward Marco.
They had left Mia with Rosa.
Inside the Moretti mansion.
Where Vittorio Greco had spent twenty-five years learning every door, every corridor, and every weakness.
Aleandro pulled out his phone.
No signal in the tunnel.
He ran.
For the first time in twenty years, Aleandro Moretti ran without caring who saw him.
Because Elena had never been the only person in danger.
May you like
And while Aleandro had been following the clues toward the river, the man who had created the entire conspiracy was already walking through the house toward Mia’s bedroom.
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