Chapter 4 - The File That Could Destroy Moretti
They reached the hospital in nine minutes.
Penelope spent every second trying Owen’s phone.
No answer.
Lorenzo made calls.
Short calls.
Names.
Orders.
Instructions she barely understood.
“Lock down the seventh floor.”
“Pull the camera feeds.”
“No police yet.”
That last one cut through her panic.
She turned.
“No police?”
“Not until we know who’s inside.”
“My brother may be in danger.”
“I know.”
“Then call them.”
“If Vale has someone on the hospital security staff, a police response could make him move faster.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No. I know him.”
The elevator opened.
Two Moretti security men stood outside the ICU.
A nurse was arguing with them.
Penelope ran forward.
“My brother.”
The nurse recognized her.
“Ms. Gallagher, he’s fine.”
Penelope stopped.
“What?”
“He’s sleeping.”
“He called me.”
The nurse frowned.
“I was just in his room.”
Penelope rushed inside.
Owen lay in bed.
Alive.
Sleeping.
No stranger.
No visible danger.
She touched his shoulder.
“Owen.”
His eyes opened.
“Penny?”
She nearly collapsed.
“You’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You called me.”
“I did.”
“You said someone entered.”
Owen blinked.
Then remembered.
“Oh.”
Penelope stared.
“Oh?”
“It was a nurse.”
“I heard a man.”
“She brought an orderly.”
“Why did the call end?”
“My phone died.”
Penelope wanted to strangle him and hug him simultaneously.
She chose the hug.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.”
“Cancer, remember?”
She pulled back.
Then noticed Lorenzo standing at the door.
Owen followed her gaze.
“Batman.”
Lorenzo looked at Penelope.
“You told him that?”
“He named you.”
Owen smiled weakly.
“Nice suit.”
“Nice hospital gown.”
“I hate him already,” Owen told Penelope.
“Most people do.”
Lorenzo entered.
His expression hardened.
“Owen, we need to talk.”
Penelope sat beside the bed.
“About Halcyon.”
Owen looked uncomfortable.
“I told her everything.”
“No,” Lorenzo said. “You told her you copied something.”
He pulled a chair closer.
“What exactly did you copy?”
“A spreadsheet.”
“What was in it?”
“Companies. Account numbers. Payments.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
“Did you open any attachments?”
“No.”
“Did you send the original file?”
“I copied it onto a drive.”
“Where is the drive now?”
“I gave it to a guy.”
“What guy?”
“His name was Eric.”
“Last name?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he look like?”
“Forties. Bald. Scar near his eyebrow.”
Lorenzo looked toward Marco.
“Rusk.”
Marco nodded.
Owen swallowed.
“Is that bad?”
“Yes.”
Penelope placed a hand on her brother’s arm.
“What is in the file?”
Lorenzo did not answer immediately.
Then he looked at Owen.
“Halcyon is an internal record of companies Adrian Vale used to launder money through city contracts.”
Penelope stared.
“Why would you have that?”
“Because three years ago one of Vale’s accountants came to me.”
“Why?”
“He wanted out.”
“And?”
“He gave me records.”
“You kept them?”
“Yes.”
“Why not give them to the police?”
“Because the accountant would have been killed before he testified.”
Owen’s face paled.
“You were protecting him?”
“I relocated him and his family.”
Penelope studied Lorenzo.
That was not what she expected.
“So the file can expose Vale.”
“And other people.”
“Who?”
“Politicians. Contractors. Two judges. A federal agent.”
Penelope’s stomach twisted.
“That sounds bigger than some gambling debt.”
“It is.”
Owen whispered, “I didn’t know.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“I know.”
“You’re not angry?”
“I’m furious.”
Owen swallowed.
“But not at you.”
Penelope looked at Lorenzo.
“Then who?”
“The men who found a sick twenty-two-year-old and convinced him desperation was an opportunity.”
Something shifted in her chest.
She had spent two years imagining Lorenzo’s darkness was simple.
Maybe darkness never was.
A knock sounded.
Dr. Shah entered.
He stopped when he saw the crowded room.
“Owen needs rest.”
Penelope stood.
“Of course.”
The doctor looked at her.
“Can I speak with you outside?”
Her stomach tightened again.
She followed him.
Lorenzo remained inside.
Dr. Shah closed the door.
“The infection markers are improving.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“The trial program contacted us again.”
Penelope waited.
“They need the financial deposit within seventy-two hours.”
The hallway seemed to narrow.
“How much?”
“The same amount we discussed.”
She nodded.
“I understand.”
“Financial services can meet with you tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll be there.”
Dr. Shah hesitated.
“There may also be charitable funds available.”
“Thank you.”
He walked away.
Penelope stood alone for several seconds.
The door opened.
Lorenzo joined her.
“You heard.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to tell you I can cover it.”
“No.”
“Penelope.”
“No.”
“Your brother has seventy-two hours.”
“I know.”
“You have forty-one thousand dollars.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“How do you know that?”
“I had Marco check.”
“You checked my bank account?”
“Not directly.”
“That sentence does not make it better.”
“You cannot raise another eighty-five thousand dollars in three days.”
“I can sell the apartment.”
“You don’t own it outright.”
“How do you know that too?”
“I know things.”
“You spy on people.”
“Efficiently.”
She turned away.
He caught her wrist gently.
“Stop.”
She looked at his hand.
He released her.
“I can save your brother.”
The words were quiet.
That was exactly why they frightened her.
“And what does it cost?”
“Nothing.”
“There’s always a cost with you.”
His face hardened.
“You have decided what kind of man I am without ever asking me.”
“I asked you tonight.”
“And because I would not confess my entire life in a hospital corridor, you assumed the worst.”
“People are afraid of you.”
“People are afraid of many things they don’t understand.”
“Are the rumors wrong?”
“Some.”
“And the others?”
He looked at her.
“No.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then Penelope asked, “Why do you care?”
He did not answer.
“Why me?”
Still nothing.
She stepped closer.
“You have hundreds of employees.”
“Yes.”
“Why follow me?”
“Because I noticed you were disappearing.”
“Why notice?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because I notice everything about you.”
Penelope stopped breathing.
Lorenzo continued.
“I know you drink terrible vending-machine coffee at 6:10 every morning even though there’s an espresso machine twenty feet from your desk.”
Her lips parted.
“I know you remove the pickles from every sandwich and then eat them separately.”
She stared.
“I know you call your brother every day at noon.”
“How?”
“You leave the conference room.”
He stepped closer.
“I know you tap your thumb against your index finger when you’re worried. I know you wear your mother’s necklace on the anniversary of her death. I know you pretend you don’t like Christmas music but hum it when you think nobody is listening.”
Penelope’s eyes filled.
“I know because I’ve spent two years trying not to know.”
Her voice was barely there.
“Why?”
“Because caring about someone is dangerous in my life.”
The hospital sounds faded around them.
Penelope looked at the man everyone in Chicago feared.
And saw something she had never seen before.
Vulnerability.
Then Marco approached.
“Lorenzo.”
The moment disappeared.
“What?”
“We found Rusk.”
“Where?”
“Security footage. He entered this hospital last month.”
Penelope felt cold.
Marco handed Lorenzo a phone.
A grainy image showed the bald man Owen had described.
He was speaking to someone in the lobby.
Someone wearing hospital identification.
“Who’s that?” Penelope asked.
Marco zoomed in.
Lorenzo went still.
The second man was familiar.
Penelope recognized him too.
She had seen him dozens of times at Moretti Holdings.
“Daniel Cross?” she whispered.
Lorenzo’s chief financial officer.
Marco nodded.
“He met Rusk here for eleven minutes.”
Penelope stared at Lorenzo.
Cross had worked for him for nearly fifteen years.
He was invited to family dinners.
He knew every account.
Every acquisition.
Every secret.
Lorenzo’s phone buzzed.
A message.
He opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Daniel Cross stood inside Lorenzo’s office.
He was holding another file.
Under the image were six words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE WATCHED YOUR OWN HOUSE.
Lorenzo lifted his eyes.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed instantly.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at Lorenzo.
“The private elevator at Moretti Holdings just opened.”
“Who used it?”
Marco swallowed.
“Cross.”
Lorenzo turned toward the hallway.
May you like
But Marco had not finished.
“He’s not alone.”
