Chapter 5 - A Traitor at Moretti’s Table
Victor Hale recovered quickly.
Too quickly.
“What exactly am I being accused of?”
His voice was calm.
Almost offended.
Clara remembered that voice from childhood.
Victor had attended birthday dinners.
He had taught her how to play chess.
When she was nine, he had spent two hours searching a garden because she had lost a silver bracelet her mother once wore.
He had been family without sharing blood.
Now Alessandro looked at him as though seeing a stranger.
“Nobody accused you of anything,” Alessandro said.
Victor smiled faintly.
“Your face did.”
Enzo stepped toward the door.
“Marco.”
Victor immediately raised both hands.
“Really?”
Alessandro gestured.
“No weapons.”
Marco stopped.
Victor looked at Clara.
“You know me.”
She wanted to say yes.
But suddenly she didn't know what that meant.
“I knew you when I was a kid.”
“I protected you.”
“Did you?”
Pain appeared in his expression.
Whether it was genuine, Clara couldn't tell.
Victor turned to Alessandro.
“You've trusted me thirty years.”
“Twenty-seven.”
“All right. Twenty-seven.”
“And tonight I've learned that eighteen-year-old enemies somehow know exactly where my daughter lives.”
“That doesn't mean me.”
“No.”
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
“But you were one of six people who knew her address.”
Victor went still.
Clara looked at her father.
“You knew where I lived?”
Alessandro winced.
“Bad timing.”
“You said you stopped tracking me!”
“I did.”
Victor actually laughed.
Clara pointed at her father.
“We are coming back to this.”
Enzo interrupted.
“Dario also had information about Clara.”
Everyone turned.
Marco had entered.
He held Dario's phone.
“There are photographs.”
Clara's stomach sank.
“What photographs?”
Marco unlocked the device.
Pictures of Clara.
Leaving work.
Buying groceries.
Waiting for the subway.
Sitting alone in a café.
Weeks of them.
Alessandro went dangerously still.
Enzo scrolled.
Then stopped.
“There are messages.”
“To whom?” Clara asked.
“Unknown number.”
He read silently.
His expression hardened.
Alessandro extended a hand.
Enzo gave him the phone.
One message had been sent four nights earlier.
THE VITI GIRL STILL WORKS THURSDAY?
Dario had replied:
YES.
Another:
WATCH WILL BE ON TABLE.
Dario:
I CAN MOVE IT. AFTER THAT I'M DONE.
Unknown:
YOU'RE DONE WHEN WE SAY.
Clara felt cold.
Dario had known who she was before tonight.
The accusation had never been random.
“Bring him here,” Enzo said.
Five minutes later, Dario was escorted into the office.
His tie was gone.
His confidence too.
Enzo held up the phone.
“You have one opportunity.”
Dario stared at the floor.
“Who are you working for?”
Silence.
“Dario.”
“I don't know.”
Enzo laughed without humor.
“You've been sending photographs of Clara to someone for weeks.”
“I never met him.”
“Him?”
Dario realized the mistake.
Enzo stepped closer.
“Who?”
“A guy called Mercer.”
Victor Hale's expression changed.
Small.
But Clara saw it.
“You know that name,” she said.
Victor looked at her.
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“Because everyone reacted.”
“No.”
Clara stood.
“You looked toward the window.”
Victor said nothing.
She turned to her father.
“When he lies, does he touch his cuff?”
Victor immediately dropped his hand from his sleeve.
Alessandro stared.
Clara felt sick.
She remembered noticing the habit as a child.
Victor had once lied about eating her birthday cake early.
Same gesture.
Same cuff.
Alessandro spoke softly.
“Who is Mercer?”
Victor's answer came too late.
“No idea.”
Enzo looked toward Dario.
“Tell us.”
Dario swallowed.
“He paid gambling debts.”
“How much?”
“Two million.”
Enzo closed his eyes briefly.
“You owed two million dollars?”
“I could've paid it back.”
“With what?”
Dario shouted, “I made a mistake!”
Enzo slammed his palm onto the desk.
Clara flinched.
He immediately noticed.
His anger softened.
He stepped backward.
Dario continued.
“Mercer approached me six months ago. He said all I had to do was information. Schedules. Meetings.”
“You sold my movements?”
“Yes.”
Enzo's face turned cold.
“And Clara?”
“I didn't know who she was at first.”
“Then why photographs?”
“He asked.”
“When did you learn?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Alessandro moved closer.
“And you kept going.”
Dario couldn't meet his eyes.
“I didn't know anyone would hurt her.”
Clara laughed bitterly.
“You helped frame me for theft.”
“I was told Moretti would question you, then security would find the watch.”
Enzo stared.
“Where?”
“In the liquor cabinet.”
“Then why wasn't I told?”
Dario hesitated.
“Because I was supposed to retrieve the chip first.”
“The chip you removed?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
Dario swallowed.
“I gave it to Mercer.”
“When?”
“Tonight. In the service hall.”
Enzo's head snapped toward Marco.
“Someone entered the building?”
Marco looked furious.
“Kitchen delivery entrance.”
Dario nodded.
“He wore a supplier uniform.”
Alessandro asked, “What does Mercer look like?”
“Mid-forties. Gray suit. Scar near his left ear.”
Victor suddenly headed toward the door.
Alessandro said one word.
“Stop.”
Victor froze.
Nobody touched him.
He turned slowly.
“I'm tired.”
Clara stepped closer.
“Who is Mercer?”
“I told you—”
“You taught me chess.”
Victor stared at her.
“You always said never watch what people say. Watch what they protect.”
Her voice trembled.
“You're protecting his name.”
Silence.
Victor's shoulders lowered.
For one second, Clara thought he might confess.
Instead, he looked at Alessandro.
“You should take Clara and leave New York.”
Alessandro's expression darkened.
“Why?”
Victor's eyes filled with something Clara had never seen there before.
Fear.
“Because Mercer isn't the real problem.”
Enzo said, “Then who is?”
Victor looked at Clara.
“The man behind him.”
“Name him.”
Victor shook his head.
“If I say his name, none of us leave this city alive.”
Alessandro walked closer.
“You have known me twenty-seven years.”
Victor smiled sadly.
“That's exactly why I'm telling you to run.”
Then every light inside the Sapphire Lounge went out.
The room plunged into darkness.
A second later, the emergency system failed too.
From somewhere below came the sound of glass breaking.
Marco shouted, “Everybody down!”
Clara felt a hand grab hers.
She almost screamed.
Then heard Enzo.
“It's me.”
He pulled her behind the heavy desk.
Alessandro crouched beside them.
Footsteps thundered on the staircase outside.
Not one person.
Several.
And then a voice echoed through the dark hallway.
“Mr. Viti.”
Clara froze.
The voice continued.
May you like
“You should have listened to Victor.”
---
