Chapter 8 - The Price of a BrotherEnzo did not react.
That frightened Mia.
The Moretti convoy stopped forty yards from the freight terminal.
Engines idled.
Weapons remained hidden.
Across the concrete lot, Sergei Volkov stood beneath the industrial light in a long black coat.
Carlo Moretti remained beside him.
Gun pressed against Dante’s head.
Mia felt Enzo’s entire body become unnaturally still.
Matteo whispered, “Could be coercion.”
Enzo said nothing.
“Enzo.”
Nothing.
Mia touched his arm.
His eyes shifted toward her.
They were empty.
“Don’t decide until you know,” she whispered.
His jaw tightened.
Then he opened the door.
“Stay behind me.”
This time she agreed.
They walked forward together.
Matteo and Luca followed ten feet behind.
Dante looked terrible.
One eye swollen.
Lip split.
Hands bound.
But alive.
When he saw Enzo, relief flashed across his face.
Then fear.
“Don’t give him anything!”
Carlo struck Dante across the back of the head with the pistol.
Enzo stopped.
“Touch him again.”
Carlo looked at his nephew.
“What?”
“Touch him again and whatever agreement you made with Volkov will not protect you.”
Carlo’s expression remained unreadable.
Volkov laughed.
“This family is exhausting.”
Sergei Volkov looked exactly like the kind of man who never needed to raise his voice.
Mid-fifties.
Silver-blond hair.
Tailored coat.
Calm blue eyes.
His elegance reminded Mia disturbingly of Enzo.
Different monsters.
Same species.
Volkov’s gaze settled on her.
“Dr. Katherine.”
Mia held his stare.
“You have something of mine.”
“Your father?”
“My life.”
Volkov smiled.
“Lorenzo has been teaching you dramatics.”
Enzo stepped slightly in front of her.
“Dante first.”
“Key first.”
“No.”
Volkov sighed.
“This is why negotiations with you take forever.”
Carlo said, “Lorenzo, give him the key.”
Enzo finally looked directly at his uncle.
“Why are you standing beside him?”
“Because sometimes survival requires ugly alliances.”
“Did you take Dante?”
“No.”
“Did you know Volkov would?”
Carlo hesitated.
That was enough.
Dante shouted, “He’s the mole!”
Everyone moved.
Carlo pressed the gun harder against Dante’s skull.
Enzo’s hand twitched toward his weapon.
Volkov’s soldiers raised rifles.
Moretti men did the same.
One movement from anyone would create a massacre.
Dante’s voice shook.
“He sold Dad.”
Enzo stared.
“What?”
“Carlo sold him to Volkov.”
Carlo snapped, “Shut up.”
Dante continued.
“He has been feeding them routes for years.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I found the accounts.”
Enzo’s expression hardened.
“Where?”
“In Dad’s estate files.”
Carlo laughed.
“Your brother is a child playing detective.”
Dante looked at Enzo.
“The transfers match Marcus Katherine’s notes.”
Mia felt cold.
Her father.
Marcus had been telling the truth.
Carlo was the traitor.
Volkov suddenly smiled.
“Family dinners must be magnificent.”
Enzo pulled the brass key from his pocket.
Carlo’s attention shifted instantly.
Enzo saw it.
So did Mia.
Confirmation.
“You want this?” Enzo asked.
Volkov nodded.
Enzo held it between two fingers.
“Release Dante.”
“Not yet.”
“Then nobody gets it.”
Enzo threw the key.
Not toward Volkov.
Into darkness.
Carlo shouted.
Every head turned.
That was the signal.
The lights went out.
Total darkness.
Mia heard gunfire.
Enzo grabbed her.
Pulled her down.
Moretti men opened fire from concealed positions outside the terminal.
Volkov’s soldiers responded.
Mia crawled behind a concrete barrier.
“Dante!”
“I’m going!”
Enzo disappeared into darkness.
Mia’s heart stopped.
She heard shouting.
Russian.
Italian.
A scream.
Then emergency lights flickered red.
Mia saw Enzo fighting Carlo.
Dante lay nearby, struggling against his restraints.
Volkov was gone.
Mia ran toward Dante.
A Bratva soldier turned.
Raised his pistol.
She froze.
Before he fired, Luca shot him.
“Move, doctor!”
Mia reached Dante.
She cut his restraints with scissors from her medical kit.
“Can you stand?”
“My ankle.”
She examined quickly.
Swollen.
Possible fracture.
“No running.”
“That is inconvenient.”
She stared at him.
Despite the blood on his face, Dante smiled.
“You must be Mia.”
“How do you know?”
“My brother talks about you.”
She glanced toward Enzo fighting Carlo.
“He does?”
“Mostly when unconscious.”
“Wonderful.”
A bullet struck nearby.
“Later.”
She put Dante’s arm over her shoulders.
They moved behind cover.
Across the terminal, Enzo drove Carlo against a support beam.
Carlo struck him directly over the healing wound.
Enzo staggered.
Mia’s stomach dropped.
Carlo drew a knife.
Enzo caught his wrist.
They struggled.
“You betrayed my father,” Enzo growled.
“Your father betrayed himself.”
“You sold him.”
“I saved this family!”
Carlo drove a knee into Enzo’s abdomen.
Enzo collapsed.
Mia shouted, “Enzo!”
Carlo raised the knife.
A gunshot rang.
Carlo froze.
He looked down.
Blood appeared on his chest.
Dante held Luca’s backup pistol.
His hands trembled.
Carlo turned slowly toward him.
“Dante.”
“You killed my father.”
Carlo fell.
Enzo looked at his brother.
Dante dropped the gun.
For several seconds they stared at each other.
Then Enzo stood and crossed the distance.
Mia expected him to say something.
Instead, he pulled Dante into his arms.
Dante broke.
He buried his face against Enzo’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
Enzo held the back of his head.
“You’re alive.”
“I shot him.”
“I know.”
“He’s family.”
“No.”
Enzo looked at Carlo dying on the concrete.
“Family doesn’t do that.”
Mia understood the statement was meant for more than Dante.
Blood did not mean loyalty.
The shooting weakened.
Matteo approached.
“Volkov escaped.”
Enzo released Dante.
“The key?”
“Recovered.”
Matteo opened his hand.
The brass key.
Volkov had failed.
But Enzo looked toward Carlo.
His uncle was still breathing.
Barely.
Enzo crouched beside him.
“Where is Marcus Katherine?”
Carlo coughed blood.
“Ask Sergei.”
“Where?”
Carlo smiled.
“You think killing me fixes anything?”
“No.”
“Good.”
His eyes moved to Mia.
“Your father caused all of this.”
Mia approached.
“My father discovered what you were.”
“He was a thief.”
“So are you.”
Carlo laughed weakly.
“Smart girl.”
“Where is he?”
Carlo looked at Enzo.
Then whispered, “The lake remembers.”
His eyes closed.
Pulse gone.
Dead.
Police sirens sounded in the distance.
Matteo said, “We have to move.”
Mia treated Dante in the SUV.
Ankle fractured but stable.
Two cracked ribs.
Multiple contusions.
No internal bleeding.
Enzo sat opposite.
Silent.
Blood seeped through his shirt.
Mia noticed.
“Take it off.”
Dante looked between them.
Enzo sighed.
“Mia.”
“Shirt.”
Dante smiled despite his injuries.
“I like her.”
“Quiet.”
Enzo removed the shirt.
His wound had reopened.
Again.
Mia stared at him.
“Do you enjoy being sutured?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then stop destroying my work.”
Dante leaned back.
“He doesn’t listen.”
“I’ve discovered that.”
“Never has.”
Enzo glared.
“You were kidnapped six hours ago.”
“And I remain observant.”
Mia cleaned the wound.
The brothers continued insulting each other.
It was strange.
Domestic.
Almost normal.
By the time they reached the safe house, Samuel Price had regained consciousness.
Mia went immediately to him.
Samuel looked weak but stable.
“You found Dante?”
“Yes.”
“Carlo?”
“Dead.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“So it was him.”
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“My father knew.”
“Yes.”
Mia sat beside the bed.
“Where is Marcus?”
Samuel looked toward Enzo.
Mia followed his gaze.
“You can speak in front of him.”
Samuel raised an eyebrow.
“That changed quickly.”
“Samuel.”
He sighed.
“Your father returned to Chicago two weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“To get the ledger.”
“Where is it now?”
“With Marcus.”
“And Marcus?”
Samuel hesitated.
“He planned to meet Volkov.”
Enzo stepped forward.
“Why?”
“Trade the ledger for Mia’s freedom.”
Mia stared.
“My freedom?”
Samuel nodded.
“Marcus discovered Volkov was preparing to use your debt to reach you. When you treated Lorenzo, the timetable accelerated.”
“He came back for me.”
“Yes.”
Mia’s anger collided with something painful.
Her father had abandoned her.
And returned to save her.
Neither truth erased the other.
“When was the meeting?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Mia remembered Carlo’s last words.
The lake remembers.
She told Samuel.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“You know what it means.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“Marcus had a boat.”
Enzo frowned.
“What boat?”
“Not exactly a boat. An old lake freighter.”
Matteo looked interested.
Samuel continued.
“Your father used a decommissioned cargo vessel as a storage site years ago. Nobody checked it because legally it was scrap.”
“Name?”
Samuel whispered, “Saint Catherine.”
Mia froze.
Her name.
Katherine.
Catherine.
“The saint,” she said.
Samuel nodded.
“Your mother’s name was Catherine.”
Mia felt tears sting.
“The vessel is moored near Calumet Harbor.”
Enzo immediately called Matteo.
“Find it.”
Ten minutes later they had satellite images.
The Saint Catherine existed.
A rusting, decommissioned freighter anchored in an industrial section of the harbor.
Mia stared at the image.
Her father was there.
She knew it.
Enzo watched her.
“You’re not going.”
Mia slowly turned.
“Try again.”
“Mia.”
“You have learned nothing.”
“It’s a freighter controlled by a man we believe Volkov wants.”
“My father.”
“And Volkov may be coming.”
“Exactly.”
“No.”
She stepped close.
“I spent seven years believing he was dead.”
“I know.”
“I’m not waiting in a safe house while you decide whether he lives.”
Enzo looked at her for a long time.
Then nodded.
“One condition.”
“What?”
“You stay beside me.”
“That was already the plan.”
They arrived at Calumet Harbor before dawn.
Fog covered the water.
The Saint Catherine emerged from darkness like a ghost.
Rust streaked its massive hull.
One weak light burned near the bridge.
Mia stood at the gangway.
Her hands trembled.
Enzo took one.
“You ready?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She looked at him.
He almost smiled.
Together they boarded.
The interior smelled of oil, rust and cold water.
They climbed toward the bridge.
No guards.
No Volkov.
No movement.
Then Mia heard music.
Classical piano.
A melody her mother used to play.
She followed it.
A door stood open.
Inside, a man sat at a table.
Gray hair.
Thin shoulders.
An old radio beside him.
He looked up.
Mia stopped breathing.
Marcus Katherine stared at his daughter.
His face collapsed.
“Mia.”
She had imagined this moment thousands of times.
She had imagined screaming.
Crying.
Hitting him.
Forgiving him.
Instead she stood perfectly still.
Marcus rose.
“My little girl.”
Mia’s voice came out cold.
“I’m twenty-seven.”
He stopped.
Tears appeared in his eyes.
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“You don’t.”
Marcus took one step.
She stepped back.
Enzo moved beside her.
Marcus noticed him.
His expression hardened.
“Lorenzo Moretti.”
Enzo said nothing.
Marcus looked at their joined hands.
Then back at Mia.
“What did he do to you?”
Mia laughed.
That was the wrong question.
“What did you do to me?”
Marcus flinched.
“Mia—”
“You were alive.”
“Yes.”
“You let me bury an empty coffin.”
“I had to.”
“You let me pay your debts.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You never called.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You could have tried!”
Marcus’s face broke.
“I watched you.”
Silence.
Mia stared.
“What?”
“From a distance.”
Her stomach turned.
“Graduation. Your first residency match. Your mother’s grave every anniversary.”
Mia’s eyes filled.
“You watched me suffer?”
“I was protecting you.”
“No.”
She shook her head violently.
“You were hiding.”
The accusation landed.
Marcus lowered his head.
“Yes.”
For the first time, he did not lie.
“I was afraid.”
Mia began crying.
Not loudly.
Just silently.
Marcus started toward her.
Enzo stepped between them.
Marcus looked furious.
“She’s my daughter.”
Enzo’s voice was calm.
“And she decides whether you touch her.”
Mia stared at Enzo’s back.
Something inside her fractured.
Then healed slightly differently.
She wiped her face.
“Where is the ledger?”
Marcus looked at her.
“In the engine room.”
“Why?”
“Because Volkov comes tonight.”
“We know.”
Marcus looked at Enzo.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Enzo almost smiled.
“I hear that often.”
Marcus said, “Carlo?”
“Dead.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Then it’s finally starting.”
“What?”
Marcus looked toward the fog-covered lake.
“The collapse.”
He turned to Mia.
“The ledger doesn’t just destroy Volkov.”
“It destroys the Moretti empire too.”
Enzo’s face became unreadable.
May you like
Marcus nodded.
“And that is why, before sunrise tomorrow, one of you will have to decide which empire deserves to survive.”
