Chapter 7 - Alessandro Viti Comes to New York
By sunrise, Alessandro Viti had taken over an entire floor of the office building.
Clara stood near the conference-room window with coffee she had forgotten to drink.
Enzo remained nearby.
She finally looked at him.
“Don't you have your own empire to run?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Someone used my cousin to help frame you and steal information from my grandfather.”
“So?”
“So apparently my empire has terrible management.”
Clara almost smiled.
Almost.
Her father entered.
“I want you out of New York.”
“No.”
“I haven't even finished.”
“You didn't need to.”
Alessandro took a slow breath.
“This isn't control.”
“It sounds exactly like control.”
“This is danger.”
“That's what you always called it.”
He looked hurt.
Clara softened slightly.
“Dad. Daniel contacted me. Not you.”
“Which is why—”
“Which is why leaving means we lose the only connection we have.”
“No.”
Enzo quietly looked away.
Alessandro pointed at him.
“Do not encourage her.”
Enzo raised both hands.
“I haven't said anything.”
“Your face is encouraging her.”
For the first time in twenty-four hours, Clara laughed.
Her father stared at her.
Then, despite himself, smiled.
The moment lasted only seconds.
Lena entered carrying a tablet.
“I traced part of Daniel's call.”
Alessandro immediately became serious.
“Where?”
“Three relays. Final connection through Brooklyn.”
“Specific?”
“Red Hook.”
Enzo frowned.
“Old shipping district.”
Lena nodded.
“And one more thing. Daniel sent a file after hanging up.”
She handed the tablet to Clara.
A video.
Victor Hale sat in a chair inside an empty warehouse.
He didn't appear injured.
Just exhausted.
Daniel stood behind the camera.
Victor looked into the lens.
“Alessandro.”
He swallowed.
“I should have told you the truth years ago.”
Clara's father stared at the screen.
Victor continued.
“Daniel is my son. His mother was Carbone's sister.”
Enzo whispered, “That makes Daniel Salvatore Carbone's nephew.”
Lena nodded.
Victor continued.
“I thought I could keep both sides apart.”
His voice broke.
“I failed.”
Clara felt anger rising.
Victor looked directly into the camera.
“Elena found out.”
Alessandro stepped closer to the tablet.
“What?”
The recording continued.
“She discovered I had been moving money between you and Carbone. I was trying to pay Salvatore to leave your family alone.”
Clara looked at her father.
Victor's voice trembled.
“Elena told me she was going to tell Alessandro.”
A long pause.
“I called Carbone.”
Clara stopped breathing.
Alessandro looked as though someone had struck him.
Victor continued.
“I thought they would scare her.”
Tears appeared in his eyes.
“I didn't know they would kill her.”
Clara turned away.
She couldn't watch.
Her father didn't move.
Victor said, “I've lived with it every day.”
The recording ended.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Alessandro quietly left the room.
Clara followed.
She found him in the corridor leaning against the wall.
The most powerful man she had ever known looked suddenly small.
“He knew,” Alessandro whispered.
Clara said nothing.
“I sat beside him at her funeral.”
His voice cracked.
“He carried your coat.”
Clara's eyes filled.
“He helped me choose the headstone.”
She took his hand.
For once, neither father nor daughter tried to fix anything.
They simply stood together.
Eventually Alessandro looked at her.
“You were right to leave.”
Clara frowned.
“What?”
“I spent eighteen years believing walls made you safe.”
His eyes were wet.
“But the man who destroyed our family was already inside them.”
“Dad—”
“I turned fear into rules.”
“You were scared.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“And I made you pay for it.”
Clara looked at their joined hands.
“I know you loved me.”
“I still do.”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
“That is something.”
“A lot, actually.”
Enzo appeared at the end of the hallway but stopped when he saw them.
Clara noticed.
So did Alessandro.
Her father quietly said, “He hit you.”
“I remember.”
“I don't like him.”
“You don't need to.”
“He keeps looking at you.”
Clara stared at her father.
“Are we seriously doing this right now?”
“I'm grieving, not blind.”
She almost laughed again.
Then Enzo approached.
“Daniel sent something else.”
They returned to the conference room.
A map appeared on Lena's screen.
Red Hook.
A specific warehouse.
And a time.
8:00 p.m.
Text beneath it:
CLARA COMES ALONE.
Alessandro immediately said, “No.”
Clara said, “Obviously I'm not going alone.”
“That isn't what I meant.”
“I'm going.”
“No.”
Enzo leaned toward the screen.
“It could be a trap.”
“It definitely is.”
Clara folded her arms.
“But he wants something from me.”
Alessandro shook his head.
“You don't know that.”
“He could have threatened me anytime during the last month.”
She pointed to the surveillance photographs.
“He watched me. Didn't touch me.”
Enzo nodded slowly.
“He needs Clara alive.”
Alessandro glared.
“Again. Stop helping.”
Enzo ignored him.
“Daniel's trying to force a conversation.”
“Then we give him one.”
Alessandro looked between them.
“This is insane.”
Clara touched his arm.
“You told me I was old enough for the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Then I'm old enough to decide what I do with it.”
Her father closed his eyes.
When he opened them, something had changed.
He wasn't surrendering.
He was trusting her.
“Not alone,” he said.
Clara nodded.
“Not alone.”
At 7:48 that evening, Clara stood outside an abandoned warehouse in Red Hook.
No apron.
No waitress uniform.
No false surname.
Just Clara.
Her father waited two blocks away.
Enzo and Marco had positioned themselves inside an adjoining building.
Lena monitored cameras.
Clara walked through the warehouse doors.
Victor sat in the center of the enormous room.
Daniel Mercer stood behind him.
For the first time, Clara saw the man who had been following her.
He smiled.
“You look like your mother.”
Clara stopped.
“Don't talk about her.”
Daniel's smile faded.
“You really don't know what she was planning, do you?”
Clara's heart beat harder.
“What are you talking about?”
Daniel reached into his coat.
No weapon.
A sealed envelope.
He placed it on a table.
“Your mother left this with my father.”
Victor looked at him sharply.
“Daniel, don't.”
Clara stepped closer.
“What is it?”
Daniel smiled again.
“Proof that Elena Viti wasn't running away from Alessandro.”
He pushed the envelope toward her.
“She was running away with something that could have destroyed every major family in New York.”
And written across the envelope, in handwriting Clara recognized from old birthday cards, were three words:
May you like
FOR MY DAUGHTER.
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