Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Refused to Stay DeadGabriel Costa entered the estate without an umbrella.
Rain darkened the shoulders of his camel-colored coat.
His hair was streaked with silver now, but the resemblance to Vincent was disturbing.
Not identical.
Gabriel was slightly leaner.
His smile came easier.
That somehow made him more dangerous.
Frank searched him in the foyer.
Gabriel lifted both arms with theatrical patience.
“No gun.”
Frank found a folding knife.
Gabriel smiled.
“That hardly counts.”
Frank removed it anyway.
Gabriel looked past him.
Vincent stood near the fireplace.
Khloe remained beside him.
The brothers stared at each other.
Eleven years passed between them without a word.
Gabriel broke first.
“You got old.”
Vincent’s expression did not change.
“You got careless.”
Gabriel laughed.
“I missed you too.”
He looked toward Khloe.
And everything about his face sharpened.
“So.”
His gaze moved over her white shirt, bare feet, and wineglass.
“This is Khloe.”
Vincent stepped half a pace forward.
Gabriel noticed.
His smile widened.
“Interesting.”
Khloe did not retreat.
“You stole $3.8 million from my company.”
Gabriel blinked.
Then looked toward Vincent.
“I like her.”
“She asked you a question.”
Gabriel removed his wet coat and handed it to Frank as though Frank were a hotel employee.
Frank looked ready to strangle him with it.
Gabriel walked toward the living room.
“I borrowed money.”
“From us.”
“From myself.”
“You own seventeen percent.”
“Exactly.”
“You owned zero percent when you took the first dollar.”
Gabriel sat on the sofa.
“Then consider it retroactive compensation.”
Vincent remained standing.
“Why are you here?”
Gabriel’s amusement faded.
“Because someone is trying to kill both of us.”
Silence.
Khloe looked at Vincent.
Vincent looked only at Gabriel.
“Explain.”
Gabriel leaned forward.
“Three months ago, Meridian lost a cargo vessel in the Caribbean.”
“Accident?”
“No.”
“Pirates?”
“No.”
Gabriel looked toward Khloe.
“Insurance investigators called it mechanical failure.”
“What do you call it?”
“Sabotage.”
He continued.
“Two weeks later, one of my accountants disappeared.”
“Then a warehouse burned.”
“Then somebody accessed old Costa accounts.”
Khloe’s attention sharpened.
“You didn’t make the transactions?”
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“I wondered when you’d reach that conclusion.”
Vincent’s eyes became colder.
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why use your company?”
“To make you think it was me.”
Gabriel stood.
“Someone knows our history.”
“Our authorization codes.”
“Our old financial network.”
“And enough about our personalities to know Vincent would immediately assume I came back for revenge.”
“You did buy seventeen percent of my company.”
“That part was me.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Almost.
Gabriel continued.
“I came back because Meridian and Costa Logistics are being positioned against each other.”
“By whom?”
“That is what I intend to find out.”
Khloe crossed her arms.
“And the shareholder contacts?”
“Insurance.”
“Against what?”
Gabriel looked at Vincent.
“My brother making the same mistake twice.”
Vincent moved so quickly Khloe barely saw it.
One moment he stood beside her.
The next, his fist struck Gabriel across the mouth.
Gabriel crashed against the edge of the sofa.
Frank did not move.
Dom looked almost nostalgic.
Gabriel touched his split lip.
Blood marked his fingers.
Then he laughed.
“There he is.”
Vincent grabbed his collar.
Khloe stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Both brothers looked at her.
“Vincent.”
She put one hand against his chest.
“Let him finish.”
For several seconds, Vincent remained rigid.
Then he released Gabriel.
Gabriel straightened his jacket.
“You always did have terrible taste in conflict resolution.”
Vincent’s voice was low.
“You threatened my company.”
“I protected myself.”
“You came into my city.”
“It was my city too.”
“Not anymore.”
Gabriel’s smile disappeared.
“There.”
He pointed toward Vincent.
“That is exactly the problem.”
Khloe watched both men.
“What problem?”
Gabriel looked at her.
“He thinks he escaped our father.”
Vincent’s face darkened.
“He didn’t.”
Gabriel continued.
“He bought legal businesses.”
“Changed accounting systems.”
“Stopped breaking fingers.”
“Congratulations.”
“But deep down, Vincent still believes everything belongs to him.”
“The company.”
“The city.”
“The people.”
His eyes flicked toward Khloe.
Vincent stepped forward.
“Be very careful.”
Gabriel smiled again.
“That.”
He pointed.
“Right there.”
“Possession.”
Khloe’s voice cut between them.
“I’m not Vincent’s possession.”
Gabriel studied her.
Then nodded.
“Good.”
“Because whoever is doing this knows Vincent’s weakness.”
“And apparently, now they know yours.”
Khloe’s phone vibrated.
She looked down.
Unknown number.
A photograph had arrived.
Her stomach dropped.
It showed the estate.
Taken through a long-range lens.
Tonight.
Through the kitchen windows.
Khloe sitting on the island.
Vincent standing between her knees.
Below the photograph was one sentence.
YOU BUILT SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL.
NOW WATCH IT BURN.
Vincent took the phone.
His face changed.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Fear.
Real fear.
Frank immediately drew his weapon.
Dom moved toward the windows and closed the curtains.
Gabriel stood.
“I received the same message yesterday.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Of what?”
Gabriel unlocked his own phone.
A photograph.
A young woman leaving a university building.
Dark curls.
Backpack.
Twenty years old, perhaps.
“My daughter.”
Vincent stared at him.
“You have a daughter?”
“Her name is Isabella.”
Gabriel’s voice cracked for the first time.
“She has nothing to do with this.”
The brothers looked at each other.
And suddenly eleven years of hatred became irrelevant.
Someone had found the two things Vincent and Gabriel Costa could not afford to lose.
Their families.
By dawn, the estate had transformed into a command center.
Frank coordinated security.
Dom contacted private investigators.
Khloe sat at the dining table surrounded by laptops and financial records.
Gabriel paced.
Vincent stood behind her.
Nobody had slept.
At 5:42 a.m., Khloe found it.
A name hidden inside the archived server logs.
Not a person.
A company.
Bellweather Holdings.
She searched state corporate records.
Dissolved.
Reopened.
Transferred.
Renamed.
The ownership trail moved through six jurisdictions.
Finally, Khloe reached a scanned incorporation document from 1998.
She enlarged the signature.
Vincent leaned closer.
Gabriel stopped pacing.
The name belonged to someone both brothers knew.
Arthur Vale.
Their father’s attorney.
Vincent whispered:
“He’s dead.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“No.”
“He disappeared.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Twenty years ago.”
“Exactly.”
Khloe stared at the screen.
Arthur Vale had handled the Costa family’s money for three decades.
He had known every account.
Every password architecture.
Every hidden asset.
Every crime.
And according to the documents Khloe found, he had quietly built a corporate network worth hundreds of millions.
“He didn’t disappear,” Khloe said.
“He diversified.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
Gabriel pulled out a chair.
“Why come after us?”
Khloe continued searching.
Then she found a second document.
A trust.
Established by Antonio Costa.
Vincent and Gabriel’s father.
Beneficiary:
Arthur Vale.
Contingent value:
Thirty percent of all Costa-controlled assets if both Costa heirs became legally incapacitated or died without a surviving controlling successor.
Khloe looked up.
The room went completely still.
Gabriel spoke first.
“He’s not trying to make us fight.”
May you like
“No,” Khloe said.
“He’s trying to make sure neither of you survives.”
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