Chapter 5 - The Man Behind the Family
Frank Bell descended the stairs with empty hands.
Dominic aimed at his chest.
Claire's mother stood frozen beside the phone.
Frank smiled.
"Put the gun down, Dominic."
Dominic suddenly noticed the red light blinking beneath Margaret's coat.
A recording device.
Someone else was listening.
"Nobody moves," Dominic said.
Frank looked older than Claire remembered.
Gray hair.
Expensive overcoat.
Calm eyes.
He had attended her father's funeral.
Held her shoulders while she cried.
Told her she was strong.
For twelve years, she had believed him.
"How did you get inside?" Claire asked.
Frank looked at her.
"Your mother gave me a key years ago."
Margaret shook her head.
"I changed the locks."
"Not the basement entrance."
Dominic's gaze stayed on Frank.
"Where's Thomas?"
Frank smiled.
"So he finally called."
"Answer."
"I don't know."
"Wrong answer."
"Still true."
Claire stepped closer.
"Did you kill my father?"
"No."
"Did you fake his death?"
Frank's smile disappeared.
"Yes."
Margaret made a broken sound.
Claire looked at her.
"You knew?"
"I knew he survived."
"Did you know Frank helped him disappear?"
Margaret began crying.
"Claire—"
"Yes or no."
"Yes."
Claire turned away.
Dominic could feel her shaking from several feet away.
Frank took one step down.
Dominic raised the weapon slightly.
"Stay."
Frank stopped.
"You really married her."
Dominic's expression didn't change.
"You noticed."
"I assumed Elias was bluffing."
"That was your mistake."
Frank looked at Claire.
"He doesn't care about you."
Claire's voice was quiet.
"I know why he married me."
"Do you?"
"Better than you know why your own son tried to kill me."
Frank's face changed.
Small.
But real.
Dominic saw it.
"You didn't order Anthony to hit her car."
Frank looked at him.
"No."
Claire stared.
"What?"
Frank sighed.
"My son is stupid, but not suicidal."
"Then why was he driving?"
"Ask the man who paid him."
Dominic thought of Luca.
Marco.
The ledger.
The puzzle widened.
"Who?" Claire asked.
Frank looked toward the phone.
Still connected.
Thomas had not hung up.
Frank spoke louder.
"Are you listening, Tommy?"
Silence.
Then Thomas's voice came through.
"I am."
Frank smiled bitterly.
"Twelve years and you're still hiding behind women."
Claire gripped the countertop.
"Stop."
Neither man listened.
Thomas said, "Tell her what Saint Michael is."
Frank's smile vanished.
Dominic stepped closer.
"Yes. Tell us."
Frank looked at Claire.
"Saint Michael isn't money."
Dominic frowned.
"What?"
"It's a ledger."
Claire immediately understood.
"Names."
Frank nodded.
"Judges. contractors. politicians. officers. businessmen. Every person your father bought, Dominic."
Dominic felt something cold settle in his chest.
"My father kept records?"
"He kept insurance."
"Where?"
Frank laughed.
"If I knew, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Claire looked at Dominic.
"Elias found it."
"Maybe," Frank said.
Dominic's eyes returned to him.
"Why were you moving money?"
"To find it."
"Eight million dollars?"
"Information isn't cheap."
"You stole from me."
Frank shrugged.
"Your father stole more from everyone."
Dominic took another step.
"Careful."
Frank looked almost tired.
"Salvatore Castellano believed loyalty could be purchased forever. He was wrong."
Dominic lowered his gun slightly.
"Who killed Elias?"
Frank's expression changed.
"I didn't."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No."
Claire interrupted.
"Anthony."
Frank looked at her.
"What about him?"
"He called Luca Ferraro before hitting my car."
Frank's eyes sharpened.
"How do you know?"
"Dominic's people traced it."
Frank became still.
Too still.
Dominic noticed.
"You know something."
Frank looked toward the window.
Then the ceiling.
Then Dominic.
"Luca wasn't working for me."
Dominic's patience snapped.
"For who?"
Frank said one name.
"Salvatore."
Silence.
Dominic's face emptied.
"My father has been dead four years."
Frank shook his head.
"I didn't say Luca was working for him now."
Claire understood first.
"For the network he left behind."
Frank nodded.
Dominic said nothing.
His father had built an organization inside an organization.
A second chain of command.
People loyal not to Dominic, but to Salvatore's methods.
His secrets.
His debts.
His corruption.
Saint Michael wasn't merely evidence.
It was a map.
A list of everyone who might still be controlled.
Claire looked at Frank.
"Why fake my father's death?"
Frank's face softened for the first time.
"Because Thomas had copied part of Saint Michael."
Claire looked at the phone.
"Dad?"
Thomas answered.
"Yes."
"You left me."
His silence hurt more than any explanation.
"I thought they'd kill you if I stayed."
"So you let me believe you were dead."
"Yes."
"I hated myself for not saying goodbye."
Dominic looked at Claire.
Her face broke.
"I went to that cemetery every Sunday for a year."
Thomas's voice cracked.
"I'm sorry."
"No."
Claire wiped tears away.
"Sorry is what you say when you're late for dinner."
Margaret moved closer.
Claire stepped away.
"No."
Margaret stopped.
Frank looked uncomfortable.
Good, Dominic thought.
Let him.
Claire turned toward him.
"And you."
Frank swallowed.
"You let me work in your office."
"I needed someone clean."
"You used me."
"I kept you employed."
"That's your defense?"
"No."
"Good."
Claire straightened.
"For once in my life, nobody gets to explain using me as protection."
Dominic flinched slightly.
She noticed.
The words applied to him too.
He lowered the gun completely.
"You're right."
Claire looked at him.
"I asked you to marry me because Elias told me to."
"Dominic—"
"No. Let me finish."
Frank watched.
Margaret watched.
Even Thomas listened through the phone.
Dominic said, "I treated protecting you like a problem I could solve with guards, walls, and my name."
Claire's eyes softened.
"But?"
"But you keep finding things none of us see."
Frank muttered, "Touching."
Dominic pointed the gun at him again without looking.
Frank shut up.
Claire almost smiled.
Then the landline clicked.
Thomas had disconnected.
"Dad?"
Nothing.
Margaret grabbed the receiver.
"Thomas?"
Dominic's phone rang.
Marco.
He answered.
"What?"
Marco's voice was urgent.
"We found Luca."
"Where?"
"At Elias's apartment."
"Alive?"
"Yes."
"Hold him."
"Boss, that's not the problem."
Dominic's stomach tightened.
"What?"
"We opened Elias's safe."
Claire stepped closer.
Marco continued.
"Saint Michael was inside."
Dominic looked at Frank.
Frank looked stunned.
For once, genuinely.
"Bring it to me."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because Luca burned most of it before we got here."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"Most?"
"One section survived."
"Names?"
"Yes."
"Whose?"
Marco hesitated.
Dominic's voice hardened.
"Marco."
"Yours."
Claire stared at Dominic.
Frank slowly smiled.
Dominic didn't.
"What does it say?"
"I haven't read everything."
"Read the first line."
Paper shifted over the phone.
Marco inhaled.
Then said, "Dominic Castellano authorized—"
The line died.
Dominic looked at the screen.
No signal.
Then every light in Margaret's house went out.
A second later, three vehicles stopped outside.
Doors opened.
Many doors.
Dominic moved Claire behind him.
Frank whispered, "That's not my people."
A red laser dot appeared on the wall.
May you like
Then another.
Then one settled directly over Dominic's chest.
