Chapter 9 - The Price on Vivian’s Life
Edmund opened the door.
Victor fell into his arms.
Blood covered his shoulder.
“Dad!”
“I’m fine.”
He was not.
Vivian pressed her hands to the wound.
“Where’s Salvatore?”
Victor pointed toward the stern.
“Gabriel followed him.”
Edmund called his brother.
No response.
The ship accelerated.
Federal boats approached from behind.
Victor grabbed Vivian’s wrist.
“Listen.”
“Save your strength.”
“No.”
His eyes were urgent.
“There is something you need to know.”
“Dad—”
“The first attempt on your life six years ago wasn’t Salvatore.”
Vivian froze.
“What?”
“He ordered people to watch you. But the brakes... that was someone else.”
“Who?”
Victor’s face tightened.
“Marco.”
Edmund swore.
“Why?”
“Because Marco believed you had the ledger.”
Vivian remembered Marco beside them after the wedding shooting.
Close enough to kill her at any moment.
“Why didn’t he?”
“Because Salvatore forbade it.”
A sick realization came.
“Salvatore protected me?”
Victor nodded.
“Why?”
He looked away.
“Dad.”
“Because your mother made a deal.”
“What deal?”
Victor coughed.
“Her life for yours.”
Vivian understood.
Evelyn had disappeared because Salvatore promised Vivian would live if she vanished.
“That’s why she never came back.”
“Yes.”
The story became crueler with every answer.
Edmund pressed a bandage against Victor’s wound.
“We need to move.”
The ship shuddered.
Then stopped accelerating.
Gabriel’s voice came over the intercom.
“Engines disabled.”
Edmund exhaled.
“Gabriel?”
Static.
Then Salvatore’s voice replaced him.
“Your brother is unavailable.”
Edmund ran.
Vivian followed.
They found Gabriel near the engine access corridor.
Alive.
Barely.
Marco stood over him.
So Marco had boarded too.
He aimed at Vivian.
Edmund moved in front of her.
Marco laughed.
“Still doing that?”
“Drop it.”
“You first.”
Gabriel stirred.
Marco kicked him.
Edmund’s eyes became lethal.
“Do that again.”
“What? You’ll kill me?”
“Yes.”
Marco smiled.
“You should thank me. I kept your father’s empire running while you played legitimate businessman.”
“You trafficked people.”
“I moved cargo.”
Vivian stared.
“Children are not cargo.”
“To people with money, everything is.”
She moved before Edmund could stop her.
A metal fire extinguisher hung beside the wall.
She pulled it free and threw it.
Marco turned instinctively.
Edmund fired.
Marco’s weapon flew from his hand.
Gabriel tackled him.
The three men crashed into the wall.
Vivian grabbed Marco’s gun.
“Stop!”
Marco looked up.
He laughed.
“You won’t shoot.”
Vivian aimed.
“I hope I don’t have to.”
That answer disturbed him more than bravado.
Edmund restrained Marco.
Federal agents boarded minutes later.
It seemed over.
Then one agent shouted.
“Salvatore’s gone!”
A rescue boat was missing.
Edmund ran to the rail.
A small craft raced toward shore.
Salvatore aboard.
Victor appeared behind them, pale but standing.
“He’ll go to the old Moretti terminal.”
Vivian turned.
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s where Evelyn hid the second archive.”
“What second archive?”
Victor gave a tired laugh.
“Apparently secrecy is hereditary.”
The archive contained original manifests.
Evidence stronger than the ledger.
Enough to convict officials who might otherwise claim the ledger was fabricated.
Salvatore would destroy it.
Vivian looked toward shore.
“We need to beat him there.”
They transferred to a federal boat.
Victor was taken to an ambulance.
Before Vivian left, he caught her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him.
For years she had imagined those words would fix something.
They did not.
But they mattered.
“I know.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“Not tonight.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
She kissed his forehead.
“But stay alive long enough for me to try.”
Victor cried.
Then they separated.
Edmund watched quietly.
On the boat, Vivian leaned against him.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Not mine.”
“That’s becoming a concerning phrase.”
He looked down at her.
“You saved my life twice today.”
“Who’s counting?”
“I am.”
“Then remember I also slapped you.”
“Twice.”
“Good.”
His arm wrapped around her.
For a few seconds, amid sirens and black water, she allowed herself to feel safe.
Then Edmund’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A recording played.
Vivian’s own voice.
From six years earlier.
Nineteen years old.
Terrified.
“Dad, my brakes aren’t working.”
Vivian went white.
Someone had recorded the call she made seconds before her crash.
Then another voice entered the recording.
A man speaking nearby.
“Make sure she survives. We still need the mother.”
Edmund replayed it.
Vivian knew that voice.
Not Salvatore.
Not Marco.
She had heard it at the wedding.
Table Seventeen.
Judge Aaron Pike.
And when Edmund looked up, the federal agent driving their boat slowly turned toward them.
It was Judge Pike’s son.
May you like
He reached inside his coat.
And smiled.
