Chapter 9 - The Last Betrayal of the Moretti FamilyThe investigation took nine days.
Nine days of checking employees.
Nine days of reviewing access records.
Nine days of quietly tracing emails, security badges, printer logs and financial transactions.
Vincent refused to return to the methods he once used.
No threats.
No broken fingers.
No locked basements.
Detective Reeves noticed.
“You’re making my job disappointingly easy,” he said.
Vincent looked at him.
“I can arrange a crime if you feel underworked.”
“Please don’t.”
Scarlet spent those days dividing her time between Magnolia Bistro and Adrian.
Against all expectations, she liked him.
Adrian was quieter than Vincent but had the same dry humor.
He loved black coffee.
Hated expensive cars.
And spoke about his daughter, Sophie, with an expression Scarlet recognized immediately.
Family was his weakness.
Just like Vincent.
Sophie met Vincent on the fifth day.
She was seven years old, missing one front tooth and completely unimpressed by his reputation.
“You’re Uncle Vincent?”
Vincent froze.
Adrian looked equally uncomfortable.
Sophie waited.
Vincent finally said, “Apparently.”
“You look scary.”
Scarlet covered a laugh.
Vincent glanced at her.
“Thank you.”
Sophie considered him.
“Dad says you own restaurants.”
“Yes.”
“Do you get free dessert?”
Vincent looked at Adrian.
“Is this interrogation normal?”
“Yes.”
Vincent crouched to Sophie’s height.
“You can have free dessert whenever you want.”
Sophie’s eyes widened.
Adrian pointed at Vincent.
“Absolutely not.”
Sophie smiled.
“I like Uncle Vincent.”
Scarlet saw something crack open inside both brothers.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But possibility.
That evening, Marco entered with the result they had been waiting for.
“We found the leak.”
Vincent stood.
“Who?”
Marco placed a photograph on the desk.
Elena Marchetti.
Vincent stared.
Scarlet recognized the name.
Moretti Holdings’ chief financial officer.
A woman in her fifties who had worked with Vincent for fourteen years.
“She’s been with you forever.”
“Since before Magnolia.”
Marco nodded.
“Her access credentials downloaded old family property records three months ago.”
“The will?”
“Likely.”
“Why?”
Marco placed another file down.
“Elena’s husband was Michael Marchetti.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
Scarlet asked, “Who?”
Vincent answered slowly.
“One of my captains.”
“Was?”
“He died twelve years ago.”
Marco continued.
“During a war with the Calabrese family.”
Vincent became silent.
Scarlet looked between them.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Marco answered.
“Michael died because Vincent ordered him into a meeting that turned out to be an ambush.”
Scarlet looked at Vincent.
“I thought intelligence was reliable.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Did you know it was dangerous?”
“Yes.”
“Did Elena blame you?”
Vincent looked at the photograph.
“She never said.”
Marco’s voice became quieter.
“She did more than blame you.”
He opened financial records.
“For fourteen years, Elena has been moving small amounts from legitimate Moretti accounts into shell investments.”
“How much?”
“About thirty-two million.”
Scarlet inhaled sharply.
Vincent barely reacted.
“And now?”
“We traced communications between Elena and Carlo Rizzi.”
Vincent’s eyes went cold.
Rizzi.
The former captain who had fled after Bellomo’s arrest.
“He’s back?”
“Not physically. We think he’s operating from Canada.”
“Then Elena is his channel.”
“Yes.”
Scarlet understood.
“She found Adrian.”
Marco nodded.
“She found the will. She gave Rizzi the information. They planned to turn Adrian against Vincent.”
“And when Adrian refused?”
“They moved to something else.”
Vincent looked at him.
“What?”
Marco slid a final photograph across the table.
Scarlet’s stomach dropped.
Magnolia Bistro.
A delivery entrance.
A man carrying a large metal container.
“What is that?”
Marco’s voice was grim.
“We intercepted an encrypted message.”
He looked at Scarlet.
“They’re planning to destroy the restaurant tomorrow night.”
Scarlet stood abruptly.
“What?”
“Opening anniversary celebration. Full house. Maximum visibility.”
Vincent’s face became lethal.
“How?”
“We don’t know.”
Scarlet thought of Rosa.
Employees.
Customers.
Lily.
Everyone who would be there.
“Cancel the event.”
Vincent nodded immediately.
Marco shook his head.
“If we cancel, Elena knows we discovered her.”
“I don’t care.”
“It might be our only chance to catch Rizzi’s network.”
Vincent looked at Scarlet.
“No.”
Scarlet surprised him.
“Wait.”
“Scarlet.”
“If we shut Magnolia, they choose another target.”
“I will not use you as bait.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She looked at Marco.
“Can we evacuate without them knowing?”
Marco thought.
“Possibly.”
Scarlet began pacing.
“The anniversary event starts at seven. Kitchen staff arrive at three. Deliveries between two and five.”
Vincent already understood.
“You want the building empty while appearing occupied.”
“Yes.”
Marco nodded slowly.
“Recorded lights. Staff vehicles. Security patterns.”
Reeves, who had been listening from the doorway, said, “And police inside adjacent buildings.”
Vincent looked irritated.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to hear an idea that might actually work.”
Scarlet looked at Vincent.
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because this restaurant is where everything started.”
“Exactly.”
“That is not an argument.”
“It is to me.”
Scarlet walked to him.
“Tony used Magnolia to hide crimes because no one was looking. You entered it pretending to be someone else because you wanted the truth. We rebuilt it because we refused to let fear own it.”
She touched his hand.
“I’m not letting Elena or Rizzi turn it into another symbol of fear.”
Vincent stared at her.
“You will not be inside.”
“Agreed.”
He blinked.
Scarlet smiled faintly.
“I’m brave, not stupid.”
The plan was set.
The anniversary celebration was publicly announced as scheduled.
Behind the scenes, reservations were moved to a private catered event at another Moretti property under the excuse of a plumbing emergency.
Employees were told only hours beforehand.
Rosa protested loudly.
“PLUMBING?”
“It was the best excuse,” Scarlet said.
“My kitchen has no plumbing problem.”
“I know.”
“I rebuilt those pipes myself.”
“Rosa.”
The older woman narrowed her eyes.
“You are hiding something.”
Scarlet kissed her cheek.
“Yes.”
Rosa sighed.
“You spend too much time with that husband.”
At six forty-five the following evening, Magnolia Bistro appeared full from the street.
Music played.
Lights moved.
Silhouettes passed behind curtains.
But inside, the dining room was empty except for hidden police and surveillance equipment.
Scarlet watched from a command vehicle two blocks away.
Vincent sat beside her.
“You should be farther away.”
“So should you.”
“I own the building.”
“I co-own it.”
“I regret that decision.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No.”
At seven twelve, a delivery van arrived.
Marco spoke through the headset.
“Vehicle matches.”
A man in a catering uniform exited carrying two metal containers.
Reeves watched another screen.
“Let him enter.”
Scarlet’s pulse hammered.
The man entered the service door.
Five minutes.
Seven.
Then he exited without containers.
Police moved.
They stopped him before he reached the van.
Inside the containers were incendiary devices.
Remote triggered.
Enough fuel to engulf the kitchen and dining room within minutes.
Scarlet stared at the image.
“They wanted everyone dead.”
Vincent said nothing.
His face was terrifyingly calm.
Reeves’s radio crackled.
“We have the courier.”
“Name?”
“Thomas Marchetti.”
Vincent turned sharply.
Marco looked at him.
“Elena’s son.”
Everything changed.
Scarlet whispered, “She sent her own son?”
Vincent understood something.
“No.”
He grabbed the radio.
“Check the building.”
Reeves frowned.
“What?”
“Now.”
Officers moved room to room.
Then a voice came through.
“Office is clear.”
“Kitchen clear.”
“Basement—wait.”
Static.
Then:
“We found someone.”
Scarlet stopped breathing.
The camera feed showed officers entering the basement storage room.
A woman sat in a chair.
Elena Marchetti.
Bound.
Gagged.
Bleeding from the forehead.
Vincent stared.
“She wasn’t helping willingly.”
Marco swore.
Five minutes later Elena was brought outside.
Scarlet and Vincent arrived.
Elena saw Vincent and began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Vincent crouched.
“Who did this?”
“Rizzi.”
“Where is he?”
“He came back two days ago.”
Marco reacted.
“In Chicago?”
Elena nodded.
“He threatened Thomas. Threatened my grandchildren.”
Vincent’s expression shifted.
“The money?”
“That was me.”
She cried harder.
“I stole it. I hated you for Michael. I blamed you every day.”
Vincent said nothing.
“But the rest—Adrian, the photographs, Lily’s kidnapping information—I gave Bellomo records at first. I wanted to hurt you.”
Scarlet watched Vincent absorb this.
Elena continued.
“Then it became too much. When they took Lily, I tried to stop. Rizzi wouldn’t let me. He said I belonged to them.”
“Where is he now?”
Elena looked toward Magnolia.
“He wanted to watch it burn.”
Marco immediately scanned the rooftops.
Vincent did too.
A gunshot cracked.
Scarlet screamed.
Vincent jerked backward.
Blood appeared across his white shirt.
“VINCENT!”
Chaos exploded.
Marco fired toward a rooftop across the street.
Police shouted.
Scarlet caught Vincent as he fell.
The bullet had struck high in his chest.
Blood spread rapidly.
“No.”
Vincent tried to breathe.
Scarlet pressed both hands against the wound.
“No, no, no.”
He looked at her.
His lips moved.
“Scarlet.”
“Don’t talk.”
“Are you hurt?”
She began sobbing.
“You’re asking if I’m hurt?”
He attempted a smile.
“Important.”
“You’re impossible.”
Sirens approached.
Marco knelt beside them.
“Ambulance thirty seconds.”
Scarlet pressed harder.
Vincent groaned.
“Stay with me.”
“I’m here.”
“Look at me.”
His eyes found hers.
Scarlet’s hands were covered in his blood.
For one terrible second she remembered her mother’s hospital.
The warehouse.
Every person she had lost.
“No.”
Vincent’s eyelids fluttered.
“You promised.”
He struggled to breathe.
“I know.”
“You promised you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I’m trying.”
“That’s not enough.”
A paramedic pushed in.
Scarlet refused to release his hand.
They loaded Vincent into the ambulance.
His blood pressure fell.
Then fell again.
Scarlet heard words she did not understand.
Possible lung injury.
Internal bleeding.
Operating room.
She sat beside him holding his hand while sirens screamed through Chicago.
Vincent looked at her once before losing consciousness.
And Scarlet realized something she had never allowed herself to think.
Forgiving Vincent had been terrifying.
May you like
Loving him had been dangerous.
But losing him now would destroy her in a way betrayal never had.
