Chapter 9 - The Dead Maro
Gabriel Maro walked into the mansion nine years after his funeral.
Antoine didn't embrace him.
He punched him.
I didn't interfere.
Some reunions need boundaries.
Gabriel explained that his death had been staged after threats from international criminals connected to old Maro operations.
Martin arranged everything.
Gabriel disappeared overseas.
He believed Antoine would be safer.
Instead, Martin used his absence to expand his criminal network.
“Why didn't you return?”
“Cowardice.”
It was the first answer I respected.
Gabriel had secretly contacted Isabella after discovering Martin's crimes.
She gathered evidence.
Then she died.
Gabriel went underground again.
“You left her alone,” Antoine said.
“Yes.”
“You left me alone.”
“Yes.”
No excuses.
That didn't make forgiveness automatic.
But truth finally had somewhere to begin.
Gabriel knew one more thing.
Martin had created an offshore account worth nearly eighty million dollars.
Money stolen from Maro Shipping.
He intended to use the account to bargain with prosecutors.
But Isabella had changed the access credentials.
Only one person could unlock it.
Camille.
Not literally.
Isabella had built the password around something only family knew.
Camille's NICU identification number.
We recovered the account.
The money was frozen.
Martin lost his bargaining chip.
For the first time, the case looked finished.
Then Renee discovered a withdrawal.
Two million dollars.
Transferred after Martin's arrest.
Someone else still had access.
We traced it.
The authorization came from inside Maro House.
At 11:40 p.m.
The night the children were kidnapped.
Security logs showed only five adults inside.
Me.
Antoine.
Donovan.
Renee.
And Gabriel.
Except Gabriel supposedly hadn't returned yet.
Someone had used his credentials before he appeared.
Antoine confronted him.
Gabriel denied it.
Donovan checked biometric logs.
The fingerprint matched Gabriel.
I looked at the older man.
“Where were you that night?”
He hesitated.
Wrong answer.
Antoine noticed.
“Where?”
Gabriel finally said:
“In New Orleans.”
The room went silent.
He had been watching the mansion before revealing himself.
“Why?”
“Because I needed to know who Martin still controlled.”
“Did you take the money?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Gabriel looked toward the hallway.
A figure stood there.
Victor.
Antoine's uncle.
Victor held a folder.
“I know who did.”
He placed it on the table.
Inside was a single photograph.
May you like
Renee.
Entering Martin Vale's law office at midnight.
