Chapter 8 - The Dead DonLorenzo did not move.
Sarah had seen him shot.
She had seen him nearly bleed to death.
She had seen him discover betrayal, confront Marco, leap between rooftops, and learn that his mother had been murdered.
Nothing had broken his composure like the man standing before them.
Vittorio Moretti was alive.
Older.
Thinner.
But alive.
Lorenzo’s voice was barely audible.
“I buried you.”
Vittorio nodded.
“You buried a body.”
“Whose?”
“A man who died without family.”
Lorenzo crossed the distance and punched him.
Hard.
Vittorio fell.
Armed men raised weapons.
Sarah raised hers.
“Everybody relax.”
Lorenzo dragged his father upright.
“Twenty years.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To keep you alive.”
Lorenzo hit him again.
This time Vittorio did not fall.
“You don’t get to say that.”
Vittorio wiped blood from his mouth.
“You’re right.”
Giovanni stood silently.
Sarah looked between the brothers.
“You both knew?”
Giovanni nodded.
“Since Argentina.”
Lorenzo turned on him.
“You lied to me from the moment you arrived.”
“Yes.”
“Why should I not kill both of you?”
Vittorio answered.
“Because the Council arrives in twelve minutes.”
Sarah checked the tunnel.
“Finally, something practical.”
They moved deeper into the vault.
Vittorio’s men sealed the steel door.
Lorenzo remained furious.
“Start talking.”
Vittorio explained.
After Elena’s murder, he stole the Registry system and intended to destroy the Council.
But he learned of the Custodian.
The Custodian threatened Lorenzo.
Young.
Ambitious.
Already entering the family business.
Vittorio realized that as long as he lived publicly, his son would remain a target.
So he staged his death.
Sarah stared.
“You abandoned him to protect him.”
“Yes.”
“That usually doesn’t work.”
“I know that now.”
Lorenzo laughed bitterly.
“You watched me become don?”
“From a distance.”
“You watched Marco stand beside me?”
“Yes.”
“You knew what he was?”
“No.”
That answer mattered.
Lorenzo’s anger paused.
Vittorio continued.
“I believed Marco was loyal. When Sarah’s father died, I was already underground. By the time I learned the truth, Marco had covered it.”
Sarah stepped forward.
“You knew about my parents?”
“Eventually.”
“And did nothing.”
“I was protecting a network.”
“My mother burned alive.”
Vittorio met her eyes.
“I know.”
Sarah slapped him.
The sound echoed.
Nobody intervened.
“Your family has a remarkable talent for explaining murders as strategy.”
Vittorio accepted it.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo looked at Sarah.
There was no anger in his face.
Only agreement.
Vittorio opened the metal case.
“The Council believes you possess the master index.”
“I don’t.”
“You do now.”
He removed a small encrypted drive.
Sarah stared.
“You had it?”
“I rebuilt it.”
Lorenzo laughed.
“So this entire hunt—”
“Was necessary.”
Sarah’s expression darkened.
“You manipulated us.”
“I needed Bellandi to expose his movements. I needed the Council focused on Lorenzo.”
“You used your son as bait.”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo grabbed Vittorio.
Sarah expected another punch.
Instead Lorenzo whispered, “You became them.”
Vittorio’s face changed.
That wounded him more than violence.
Outside the vault, an explosion shook dust from the ceiling.
Council forces.
Vittorio’s soldiers prepared.
“We leave through the lower tunnel.”
Lorenzo did not move.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m done following your plans.”
“Enzo—”
“My name is Lorenzo.”
Vittorio fell silent.
Lorenzo took the encrypted drive.
“You want the Council destroyed?”
“Yes.”
“Then we do it my way.”
“What way?”
“We give them exactly what they want.”
Sarah understood.
“The Registry.”
Lorenzo nodded.
“Not publicly.”
Vittorio frowned.
“Explain.”
“The Council’s seven seats are afraid of exposure. The Custodian controls them because each believes he protects their secrets.”
Sarah smiled slowly.
“We show each member that the Custodian has been keeping separate insurance against them.”
Vittorio stared.
“They turn on him.”
“Exactly.”
“Dangerous.”
Lorenzo smiled coldly.
“Safe is boring.”
Sarah looked delighted.
Another explosion.
The door buckled.
Vittorio’s men opened the lower passage.
They escaped moments before Council forces entered.
For three days, they hid in an abandoned hunting estate in Umbria.
Sarah and Vittorio decrypted files together.
She did not forgive him.
But she respected his knowledge.
The Registry was enormous.
Millions of transactions.
Photographs.
Recorded conversations.
Bribes.
Assassinations.
Blackmail.
Then Sarah found seven folders.
One for each Council seat.
Inside each was evidence the Custodian had prepared to destroy them individually.
Bellandi’s secret accounts.
Rinaldi’s illegitimate son.
Voss’s illegal intelligence operations.
Armand’s trafficking network.
Varga’s private killings.
The remaining two seats were finally identified.
Judge Henrik Stahl.
And Cardinal Pietro Valenti.
Sarah stared.
“A cardinal?”
Vittorio nodded.
“Power hides well beneath morality.”
Lorenzo entered.
“Can we contact them separately?”
“Yes.”
Sarah understood his plan completely now.
Seven messages.
Seven meetings.
Seven seeds of distrust.
Over the next week, they sent proof.
No threats.
Only one sentence.
THE CUSTODIAN KEEPS YOUR GRAVE READY.
Chaos followed.
Bellandi disappeared from public view.
Rinaldi moved her family to Switzerland.
Voss began killing his own security staff, believing they were compromised.
Armand stopped shipments.
Varga murdered two Council couriers.
The machine was turning against itself.
Then a reply came.
Not from any Council member.
From the Custodian.
A video.
The screen showed a dark room.
A man sat in shadow.
His voice was electronically altered.
“Lorenzo Moretti. Sarah Miller. Vittorio Moretti.”
Sarah leaned forward.
“You have created considerable inconvenience.”
Lorenzo smiled.
“Sounds expensive.”
The Custodian continued.
“You believe you have learned the architecture of power. You have not.”
The camera widened.
Someone was tied to a chair.
Sarah froze.
Marco.
Still alive.
His face bruised.
But conscious.
“Why does nobody kill this man?” Sarah muttered.
Marco looked into the camera.
“I told him everything.”
Lorenzo’s expression changed.
“Everything about what?”
Marco began crying.
“The girl.”
Sarah frowned.
“What girl?”
The Custodian answered.
“A child currently living in Chicago.”
A photograph appeared.
A teenage girl.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
Sarah did not recognize her.
Lorenzo did.
His face drained.
“No.”
Sarah turned.
“Who is she?”
He did not answer.
The Custodian did.
“Her name is Isabella Romano.”
The photograph changed.
A birth certificate.
Father unknown.
Mother: Alessandra Romano.
Sarah looked at Lorenzo.
“Who was Alessandra?”
The dead woman from the cabin.
The one for whom Lorenzo had bought the lake house.
Lorenzo sat down.
“My first love.”
Vittorio stared at the screen.
The Custodian continued.
“Isabella is seventeen.”
Sarah understood before Lorenzo did.
“No.”
The Custodian almost sounded pleased.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo stared at the girl’s photograph.
His daughter.
A daughter he had never known existed.
The Custodian gave them an address.
Chicago.
Then one final instruction.
“Bring me the Registry.”
The screen went black.
Lorenzo stood.
Vittorio blocked him.
“You cannot go.”
Lorenzo shoved him aside.
“That is my daughter.”
“It may be a trap.”
“It is a trap.”
Sarah closed the laptop.
“And we’re going.”
Vittorio looked at her.
“You support this?”
“She’s seventeen.”
“We could send men.”
“No.”
Sarah stood beside Lorenzo.
“This is personal.”
Vittorio stared at his son.
Twenty years earlier, he had abandoned Lorenzo because enemies threatened his child.
Now he saw the same terror in Lorenzo.
Vittorio stepped aside.
“Then I am coming.”
Lorenzo shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if I fail, someone needs to finish this.”
He handed Vittorio a copy of the Registry.
“Release everything if we don’t contact you in forty-eight hours.”
Vittorio took it.
For the first time, father and son understood each other.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But understanding.
Sarah touched Lorenzo’s hand.
“Ready?”
“No.”
She squeezed it.
“Good.”
They boarded another plane that night.
Destination Chicago.
The city they had escaped.
The city that believed them dead.
May you like
The city where Marco Vain had begun everything.
And somewhere among its streets was a seventeen-year-old girl who had no idea that the dead mafia boss returning from Europe was her father.
