Chapter 8 - The Man Inside the Family
They did not go to Pier 19.
Rosa was already safe.
The message had been a bluff designed to make them move.
Instead, Adrian sent an empty vehicle carrying a tracker and a decoy case.
It disappeared near the harbor.
Thirty minutes later, one of Adrian’s remaining loyal men called.
“The case was taken.”
“Who?”
“Two men.”
“Carlo?”
“No.”
“Enzo?”
“No visual.”
Adrian ended the call.
Elina folded her arms.
“So now they know we didn’t bring the real ledger.”
“They’ll know soon.”
“What happens then?”
“They get impatient.”
“That sounds bad.”
“It usually is.”
At six the next morning, they drove south.
Rosa stayed with Leo.
D’Angelo insisted on coming until Adrian refused.
The abandoned train station stood beside overgrown tracks.
Elina exited first.
“Dad?”
Nothing.
Then a man stepped from behind an old ticket booth.
He was in his late fifties.
Dark hair graying at the temples.
Thin.
Tired.
Elina recognized his mouth.
Her own.
Rafael Valdez stared at his daughter as though seeing a ghost.
“Lucia,” he whispered.
Elina’s anger ignited instantly.
“No.”
His expression broke.
“Elina.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t get to begin there.”
Rafael looked at Adrian.
“You brought Moretti.”
“He brought me.”
“Then you don’t know what his family did.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Where is the document?”
Rafael laughed softly.
“Straight to business.”
“My wife died because of this.”
“My daughter.”
The words stunned everyone.
Rafael’s eyes filled.
“She was my daughter too.”
Elina wanted to slap him.
“Then where were you?”
He looked at her.
“Hiding.”
“For twenty-six years?”
“Yes.”
“While Mom thought Lucia died?”
“Yes.”
“While Lucia searched?”
“Yes.”
“While Carlo threatened us?”
Rafael’s shoulders dropped.
“Yes.”
“You don’t deserve to call her your daughter.”
“No.”
His acceptance disarmed her.
He sat on an old bench.
“I was twenty-eight when your mother became pregnant.”
He explained that he had started as an accountant.
He thought the men paying him were simply businessmen hiding taxes.
Then he discovered the Moretti organization.
By then, he knew too much.
“When you girls were born, I wanted out.”
He copied financial ledgers.
He planned to take Rosa and the babies to federal authorities.
Carlo’s father learned about it.
“So you split the evidence,” Elina said.
“Yes.”
“Mom and Maribel.”
“Yes.”
“And Maribel died.”
Rafael closed his eyes.
“I watched it happen.”
Elina stopped.
“What?”
“I followed at a distance.”
“Then why didn’t you save Lucia?”
“I thought she was dead too.”
“You didn’t check?”
“Men were searching the road.”
“I ran.”
His voice broke.
“I ran.”
Elina stared.
A coward.
A frightened young father.
Both could be true.
“What happened afterward?”
“I disappeared.”
“Carlo found you?”
“Years later.”
“And you worked for him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To keep him away from Rosa.”
“Did that work?”
“For a long time.”
Elina laughed bitterly.
“Until it didn’t.”
Rafael nodded.
“Lucia found me eight years ago.”
“Before she found Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Did you help her?”
“At first.”
“Then?”
“I realized Carlo was watching.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“You told Carlo she was searching.”
Rafael lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Elina felt sick.
“You betrayed your own daughter.”
“I thought if Carlo knew I was cooperating, he would leave her alive.”
“How did that go?”
“Elina.”
“No. Look at me.”
He did.
“She died.”
“I know.”
“Because you gave him information.”
“I know.”
Rafael cried silently.
Elina felt nothing resembling forgiveness.
Not yet.
“Did you cut the brakes?”
“No.”
“Did you know?”
“Not until afterward.”
“Who did it?”
“Enzo arranged the mechanic.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“And Carlo ordered it?”
“Yes.”
The answer sat like stone.
“Why?”
“Lucia had photographs of meetings between Carlo and law enforcement officials.”
Adrian asked, “Which officials?”
“Detective Samuel Vance.”
Adrian recognized the name.
“He investigated Lucia’s crash.”
“Yes.”
Everything connected.
“Where is the original document about Maribel?” Elina demanded.
Rafael reached inside his coat.
Adrian raised his weapon.
Rafael slowly removed an envelope.
Inside was an old handwritten authorization signed by Carlo’s father.
A payment.
A license plate.
Maribel’s route.
Proof.
Elina’s hands shook.
“This ruined our entire family.”
“Yes.”
“For paper.”
“For power.”
Rafael looked at Adrian.
“Carlo is going to kill you.”
“He’s been trying.”
“No.”
Rafael shook his head.
“You don’t understand.”
“He has called a meeting tonight.”
“With the captains.”
“He’ll tell them you’ve lost control.”
Adrian became still.
“He’ll use Lucia?”
“He’ll say you let grief weaken you.”
“And the ledger?”
“He’ll claim Elina forged it.”
Elina stared.
“How would I forge records from before I was born?”
“They don’t need truth.”
Rafael’s answer was simple.
“They need an excuse.”
Adrian looked toward the tracks.
For the first time, Elina saw uncertainty.
Not fear.
Calculation.
“What do you need?” she asked.
He looked at her.
“You don’t belong in this.”
“My sister died in it.”
“Elina—”
“What do you need?”
Adrian hesitated.
“The captains won’t believe digital files.”
Rafael held up the document.
“This plus the original ledger might convince them.”
“I have it.”
“And Vance?”
Elina thought of Lucia’s videos.
“We have her testimony.”
“Not enough legally,” Adrian said.
“Maybe enough to divide Carlo’s allies.”
Rafael stood.
“There’s another recording.”
“Where?”
“Lucia gave it to me the night she died.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“You spoke to her?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she was going to expose Carlo.”
“And you let her leave?”
“I begged her not to.”
Rafael looked toward Elina.
“She told me she had spent her entire life being protected by lies.”
“She was done.”
Elina felt something fierce inside her chest.
That sounded like the sister she wished she had known.
“Where’s the recording?”
Rafael looked around.
“I hid it somewhere Carlo would never search.”
“Where?”
He almost smiled.
“Your apartment.”
Elina stared.
“What?”
“Three years ago, I entered while you were at work.”
Her skin crawled.
“You were watching me.”
“Yes.”
“Like everyone else.”
“I wanted to know my daughter was alive.”
“From a distance?”
“It was all I believed I deserved.”
She hated how sad that sounded.
“Where did you hide it?”
“In the lining beneath your kitchen drawer.”
Elina looked at Adrian.
“We go now.”
They never reached the apartment.
Halfway back to the city, Adrian’s phone rang.
Rosa.
He answered.
Her voice was frantic.
“Adrian!”
“What?”
“Leo is gone.”
Elina’s heart stopped.
“What do you mean gone?”
“Someone came through the rear entrance.”
“Who?”
Rosa began crying.
“I thought he was one of your men.”
“Who took him?”
Silence.
Then Rosa whispered:
“Enzo.”
Adrian’s face became something Elina had never seen before.
Pure terror.
His phone beeped.
A message.
A photograph of Leo.
The baby was crying in Enzo’s arms.
Beneath it:
Bring the ledger tonight.
Or Lucia loses her son too.
Elina looked at Adrian.
His hands were shaking.
And for the first time, the feared Adrian Moretti did not look like a mafia boss.
May you like
He looked like a father whose entire world had just been stolen.
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