Chapter 3 - The Secret Elena Buried
Vincent missed a stair.
Only one.
Then his hand tightened around the railing.
Lily was in front of him.
Elena behind.
Salvatore heard the words too.
Nobody spoke until they reached the basement.
Marco locked the door above them.
Vincent turned toward Elena.
“What did he say?”
Elena's eyes lowered.
“Not here.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“You have exactly five seconds before I walk back upstairs and ask Hale myself.”
“Vincent—”
“One.”
Elena looked toward Lily.
“Two.”
“Please.”
“Three.”
Lily tugged Vincent's sleeve.
“Are the bad men coming?”
Everything inside him stopped.
He looked down.
The girl's brown eyes were enormous.
She had heard enough terror for one night.
Vincent crouched.
“No.”
Elena stared at him.
Vincent continued.
“They're not getting near you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I'm between you and them.”
Lily studied his face as if deciding whether adults could still be trusted.
Then she nodded.
Vincent stood.
His expression toward Elena had changed.
“We finish this somewhere safe.”
They escaped through a utility corridor leading into the alley.
Marco had brought the second SUV around.
Minutes later they were driving north.
Vincent gave one instruction.
“Lake house.”
Salvatore glanced back.
Vincent's lakefront property outside the city was unknown to most of his organization.
Lily slept during the drive, curled against Elena.
Vincent watched her.
His daughter.
The possibility felt impossible.
Then he saw the shape of her eyebrows.
His mother's eyebrows.
He looked away.
At 1:03 a.m., they arrived.
Vincent dismissed everyone except Salvatore.
Lily was placed in a guest room.
Elena remained beside her until she slept.
When she finally entered the kitchen, Vincent was waiting.
No alcohol.
No raised voice.
Only the silver locket placed between them on the table.
“Start talking.”
Elena sat opposite him.
“Lily is eight.”
Vincent did the math.
Eight years.
Not fifteen.
His expression hardened.
“You and I hadn't seen each other for years.”
“I know.”
“Then how?”
Elena looked confused.
Then suddenly understood.
“No. Vincent. Lily isn't biologically yours.”
He stared at her.
“Hale said—”
“I know what he said.”
“You're telling me he lied?”
“Not exactly.”
Vincent leaned back.
“That sentence usually means somebody is about to make things worse.”
Elena took a breath.
“Lily's biological father died before she was born.”
Vincent waited.
“His name was Anthony Moretti.”
The room went silent.
Vincent's younger brother.
Dead nine years.
Killed in what police called a robbery.
Vincent stood so quickly his chair scraped the floor.
“No.”
Elena's eyes filled.
“I'm sorry.”
“No.”
“Anthony found me years after I disappeared. Your father had sent him.”
Vincent turned away.
Memories arrived without permission.
Anthony laughing in their mother's kitchen.
Anthony borrowing Vincent's car without asking.
Anthony complaining that their father trusted Vincent with everything.
Anthony's closed coffin.
Anthony's blood on pavement.
Vincent faced Elena again.
“You had his child?”
“Yes.”
“And never told me?”
“I was trying to keep her alive.”
“From whom?”
“From the same person who killed Anthony.”
Salvatore shifted near the doorway.
Vincent noticed.
Elena did too.
Vincent said, “Salvatore knows.”
Elena shook her head.
“Only pieces.”
Vincent looked at him.
Salvatore spoke quietly.
“Anthony contacted me two days before he died.”
Vincent stared.
“He said he'd discovered someone inside the family was feeding names to Hale.”
“Hale?”
“Yes.”
“But Hale supposedly died before Anthony.”
“That was the point.”
Vincent understood.
Hale had faked his death.
Anthony discovered it.
Then Anthony died.
Vincent rubbed a hand across his face.
“What did my brother find?”
Elena reached beneath her shirt.
A thin chain appeared.
Attached was a tiny brass key.
“He found where your father hid his copy of the Ledger.”
Vincent looked at the key.
“And you kept it eight years?”
“Because your brother told me not to trust anyone named in the book.”
“Including me?”
Elena's voice broke.
“Especially you.”
Vincent almost laughed.
“That's convenient.”
“He believed whoever betrayed your father would eventually take control of the organization.”
Vincent stared at her.
“And I took control.”
“Yes.”
“So you thought I killed my brother?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I didn't know.”
That answer hurt more.
She had not trusted him enough even to decide.
Vincent paced toward the window.
Below, Lake Michigan was black and motionless.
“When did Daniel enter your life?”
“Six years ago.”
“And he was sent to watch you.”
“I discovered that last month.”
“How?”
“He left a phone unlocked.”
“What was on it?”
“Messages.”
“To whom?”
“Initials only.”
Vincent turned.
“Which initials?”
Elena hesitated.
“V.M.”
Salvatore looked at Vincent.
Vincent's face became still.
Someone had intentionally used his initials.
Someone wanted Elena to believe Vincent controlled Daniel.
“That's why he kept saying you wouldn't save us,” Elena said.
“And tonight?”
“I confronted him.”
Vincent understood the scene in the bedroom.
“That's why he got violent.”
“He realized I knew.”
“Did he hit Lily?”
“No.”
Elena answered instantly.
“Never. Tonight Lily hid because she saw him lose control with me.”
Vincent nodded once.
“He won't get another chance.”
Elena looked uneasy.
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing Lily has to carry.”
That answer seemed to surprise her.
Vincent sat again.
“Now the key.”
Elena pushed it across the table.
“The Ledger isn't a book anymore.”
“What is it?”
“A safety-deposit box.”
“Where?”
“First Chicago Trust.”
Vincent stared.
That bank had closed eleven years earlier.
Elena continued.
“Your father transferred the boxes to a private vault company before the bank collapsed.”
“Which company?”
“Blackwell Secure Holdings.”
Salvatore cursed.
Vincent looked at him.
“What?”
“Blackwell belongs to Judge Blackwell.”
One of the six people with Vincent's private number.
Vincent felt the trap closing.
Judge Marcus Blackwell had been his father's attorney.
Mentor.
Family friend.
The man who had spoken at Anthony's funeral.
Vincent reached for his phone.
No signal.
He frowned.
Salvatore checked his.
“Mine too.”
The house had independent service.
Vincent went to the security panel.
Red lights flashed.
Connection lost.
Marco entered quickly.
“Power grid's fine. Security network isn't.”
Vincent said, “Somebody jammed us.”
Then the exterior cameras returned.
One by one.
Driveway.
Garden.
Boathouse.
Front gate.
A black sedan was parked outside.
No license plate.
The driver's door opened.
A man stepped out.
Tall.
Silver hair.
Long coat.
Vincent knew him immediately.
Judge Marcus Blackwell.
Elena whispered, “How did he find us?”
Vincent watched the screen.
Blackwell walked toward the front door carrying a red folder.
The same folder stolen from Belladonna.
Salvatore reached for his weapon.
Vincent raised a hand.
Blackwell stopped beneath the camera.
He looked directly into it.
Then lifted his phone.
Vincent's private line rang.
He answered.
Blackwell said:
“Before you open that door, Vincent, ask Elena what Anthony wrote on Lily's birth certificate.”
Vincent looked at Elena.
All the blood left her face.
The doorbell rang.
May you like
Then Blackwell called through the other side:
“Because Anthony Moretti isn't the father listed there.”
