Chapter 6 - What Her Father Died Protecting
For one terrible second, Frankie expected pain.
Instead, Gabriel struck her from the side.
They fell together behind her father’s desk.
Another shot tore through the wood.
“Are you hit?” Gabriel demanded.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes!”
He looked furious.
“At me?”
“At everyone.”
“That seems healthy.”
Gunfire echoed through the garage.
Matteo’s men moved toward Luca.
Rinaldi dragged Leo backward, using him as a shield.
“Stop!”
Frankie recognized the panic in her brother’s eyes.
She knew the garage better than anyone.
Every switch.
Every chain.
Every machine.
She looked upward.
An engine block hung from the overhead hoist directly behind Rinaldi.
Frankie crawled toward the lift control.
Gabriel saw.
“What are you doing?”
“Working.”
She hit the button.
The hoist moved.
Rinaldi glanced upward.
The distraction lasted one second.
Leo drove his head backward into Rinaldi’s face.
Gabriel moved.
Matteo moved.
Rinaldi fired wildly.
The bullet struck the ceiling.
Leo dropped.
Gabriel tackled Rinaldi.
Frankie ran to Leo.
“You okay?”
“I think so.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Across the garage, Luca ran toward the rear exit.
Elena stepped into the doorway.
He stopped.
For the first time all night, Luca Costa looked afraid.
“Elena.”
She held a gun steady.
“Hello, Uncle.”
His face drained.
“You’re dead.”
“You tried.”
Gabriel dragged Rinaldi upright.
Matteo restrained him.
Luca looked from Elena to Gabriel.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Gabriel approached.
“I know exactly.”
“You expose those books, everything collapses.”
“Good.”
“Our family collapses.”
“Maybe it should.”
“You think legitimate businessmen will accept you? Politicians? Banks? You’re a Costa.”
Gabriel looked toward Frankie.
Then back.
“That stopped being an excuse tonight.”
Luca laughed.
“You sound like Vittorio.”
“Thank you.”
It was the cruelest answer he could have given.
Police arrived seven minutes later.
Not the officers named in the red ledger.
Federal agents.
The attorney holding the copied files had contacted them the moment Frankie entered the garage.
Luca and Rinaldi were arrested.
So were two officers who arrived pretending to respond to the emergency but appeared in the ledger.
By sunrise, the city had begun to shake.
Search warrants.
News helicopters.
Executives disappearing into federal buildings.
Frankie sat on the hood of an old Ford drinking terrible vending-machine coffee while strangers photographed her garage from across the barricade.
Gabriel approached.
His shirt was torn.
There was blood near his collar.
She stood.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Not mine.”
“That sentence is never reassuring.”
He looked toward the building.
“It may be closed for several days.”
“You think?”
“I can arrange another facility.”
“No.”
He smiled faintly.
“I knew you’d say that.”
“Then why offer?”
“I enjoy consistency.”
They stood in silence.
Frankie glanced at him.
“What happens to you?”
“Investigations.”
“Prison?”
“Possibly.”
She looked sharply at him.
“For what?”
“For crimes committed under my organization.”
“Did you order them?”
“Some.”
The honesty hurt.
Gabriel did not pretend to be innocent.
He was not.
Frankie had known that from the beginning.
“What kind?”
“Extortion. Illegal lending. Smuggling.”
Her mouth tightened.
“No murders?”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No.”
She hated that answer.
He continued.
“But I will testify. I will give them everything.”
“Why?”
“Because my father tried to clean the organization and died. Your father tried to expose what remained and died. Elena lost fourteen years.”
His eyes met hers.
“I’m tired of inheriting dead men’s mistakes.”
Frankie looked away.
The sun rose behind the buildings.
For the first time in two days, the rain had stopped.
Leo joined them.
His wrists were bruised.
“I need to tell you something.”
Frankie groaned.
“No more secrets.”
“This one matters.”
“They all matter.”
Leo handed her an envelope.
“Dad left this with our lawyer.”
“What?”
“He said I should give it to you if the garage was ever in danger.”
“You had this for five years?”
“I found it last year.”
Frankie’s stare could have melted steel.
“Leo.”
“I was ashamed.”
She opened it before murdering him.
Inside were legal documents.
The loans against the garage.
But also a life-insurance trust.
An account.
Money enough to have cleared most of the debts.
Frankie stared.
“Why didn’t we know?”
Leo looked sick.
“I withdrew it.”
“How much?”
“All of it.”
Her knees almost weakened.
“You gambled Dad’s insurance?”
“I thought I could double it.”
Frankie closed her eyes.
For a moment, she wanted to scream.
Then strangely, she felt nothing.
No surprise remained.
“I’ll repay you,” Leo whispered.
“With what?”
“I’m selling my share.”
“To who?”
“You.”
She opened her eyes.
“I don’t have money.”
“You don’t need it.”
He handed her another page.
Transfer agreement.
His forty percent.
For one dollar.
Frankie stared at him.
“I ruined almost everything Dad left us.”
Leo’s eyes filled.
“I can’t fix what I did. But I can stop pretending I’m entitled to another chance with the garage.”
She wanted to stay angry.
She was angry.
But beneath it was her brother.
Damaged.
Weak.
Finally honest.
“You need help.”
“I know.”
“Real help.”
“I know.”
“No poker.”
“I know.”
“No loans.”
“I know.”
“No touching my cash register.”
He almost smiled.
“I know.”
Frankie pulled him into a hug.
Then immediately pushed him away.
“I’m still furious.”
“I know.”
Gabriel looked at the ground, giving them privacy.
Frankie noticed.
Later that afternoon, Elena found one final letter inside the red ledger’s binding.
It was addressed to Gabriel and Frankie.
Together.
Salvatore had written it five years earlier.
If you are reading this together, then things went either much better or much worse than I expected.
Frankie laughed through tears.
That sounded like him.
Vittorio once told me Gabriel had two dangerous qualities: he remembers every insult, and he hates owing anyone.
Gabriel muttered, “Accurate.”
Frankie kept reading.
So, Gabriel, if my daughter helped you find the truth, consider your family’s debt to mine paid.
Gabriel looked at Frankie.
She continued.
Francesca, if Gabriel is standing beside you, give him a chance before you decide what kind of man he is.
Frankie stopped.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Your father was wise.”
“He was clearly delirious.”
The final lines were simpler.
The garage belongs to you. Not because it is valuable land. Not because it is my legacy.
It belongs to you because it is the place where you learned you could repair things other people had given up on.
Frankie’s vision blurred.
Do not spend your life repairing only machines.
She lowered the letter.
Gabriel stood beside her.
Neither spoke.
Finally, he said, “Your father was annoyingly persuasive.”
“Don’t encourage him.”
“He’s dead.”
“He’d still find a way.”
Gabriel smiled.
Frankie looked toward the garage.
Federal investigators filled it.
Yellow tape crossed the entrance.
Her life looked broken.
Again.
But broken things were familiar.
She knew what to do with them.
Trace the failure.
Replace what could be replaced.
Repair what could be repaired.
And throw away what could not.
Three weeks later, Luca Costa was charged with conspiracy, murder, racketeering, bribery, and financial crimes.
Rinaldi agreed to cooperate.
The city learned how deep the corruption went.
Gabriel testified before a grand jury.
Then he disappeared from public view.
Frankie heard nothing from him for twenty-seven days.
Not one call.
Not one message.
She told herself she preferred it.
She lied.
On the twenty-eighth morning, a black sedan stopped outside Bellomo Auto.
Frankie came out holding a wrench.
Gabriel stepped from the back.
No suit.
Dark jeans.
White shirt.
No bodyguards.
She stared.
“You look unemployed.”
“I am, temporarily.”
“What happened?”
“I resigned from Vanguard.”
Her wrench lowered.
“You did what?”
“Sold the legitimate divisions. Closed the rest.”
“You walked away?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to know what was left when the empire was gone.”
Frankie swallowed.
“And?”
He looked at her.
“Apparently, an annoying mechanic.”
She almost smiled.
Then a second person stepped from the car.
A federal attorney.
Frankie frowned.
“What is this?”
Gabriel held out an envelope.
“I found something in Vanguard’s old property records.”
She opened it.
A deed.
Her garage.
More precisely, the parcel directly behind it.
Owned by a Costa shell corporation.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Because your father paid for half of it twenty years ago.”
“What?”
“Vittorio never transferred his share.”
“So?”
“So legally, after correcting the estate records, half belongs to you.”
Frankie stared at the adjoining land.
It doubled the size of the garage.
“You could sell this for millions.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re giving it to me?”
“No.”
She frowned.
Gabriel pointed at the paperwork.
“I am returning what was already yours.”
She looked at him.
For once, there was no trick.
No debt.
No contract.
No threat.
Gabriel Costa had come to pay something money could not measure.
Then the federal attorney cleared his throat.
“There is one additional condition.”
Frankie narrowed her eyes.
“What condition?”
Gabriel looked annoyed.
“I told him not to phrase it that way.”
The attorney handed Frankie another document.
She read the heading.
Her eyes widened.
VICTIM RESTITUTION AGREEMENT — $300,000.
She looked at Gabriel.
“What is this?”
“Rinaldi’s forfeited assets.”
“The debt.”
“Never legally existed at that amount. The funds taken through the scheme are being returned.”
Frankie stared at the number.
Three hundred thousand dollars.
The exact amount that had started everything.
The attorney smiled.
“Congratulations, Ms. Bellomo. Your brother owes Gabriel Costa nothing.”
Gabriel met her eyes.
“No debt.”
For some reason, those two words frightened her.
Because without debt, without secrets, without danger—
There was nothing forcing Gabriel to remain in her life.
He seemed to understand exactly what she was thinking.
“I should go.”
Frankie’s chest tightened.
“You probably should.”
He nodded.
Turned.
Took three steps.
And stopped.
Frankie hated him for stopping.
She hated herself for hoping.
Gabriel looked over his shoulder.
“There is one thing your father was wrong about.”
“What?”
“He said the debt between our families was paid.”
Frankie folded her arms.
“And?”
“I still owe you.”
“For what?”
Gabriel’s expression softened.
“For making me want a life I didn’t think I could have.”
Frankie forgot every sarcastic answer she had ever learned.
Which was unfortunate.
May you like
Because Gabriel began walking back toward her.
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