Chapter 6 - THE LIST OF OWNED MEN
By sunrise, my house had become a war room.
Phones rang continuously.
Guards moved through corridors.
Two cybersecurity specialists tore apart the security network looking for Matteo’s access.
Sofia slept on the couch in my study with Bear curled against her legs.
I had ordered a bedroom prepared.
She refused to use it.
She said she wanted to stay where she could see the door.
I understood too well.
The microfilm lay beneath a magnifying scanner on my desk.
One hundred seventeen names.
Judges.
Federal agents.
Police commissioners.
Union leaders.
Executives.
Politicians.
Some I knew.
Some I owned.
Others I believed owned themselves.
Apparently none of us understood the full game.
Luca pointed to a code beside each name.
“Payments.”
“Amounts?”
“Maybe.”
He enlarged one row.
SENATOR CHARLES WHITMORE — RAVEN 12 — 4.8.
“Four point eight million?”
“Could be.”
“Or something else.”
The final column contained dates.
Some went back thirty years.
Before I had power.
Before Matteo had influence.
Before Elena entered my life.
“This started with Richard Bell,” I said.
“Looks that way.”
“What was he running?”
Luca leaned back.
“Maybe Bellweather wasn’t a construction company with political influence.”
“What then?”
“A political machine with a construction company.”
That made more sense than I wanted it to.
Bellweather controlled ports, road contracts, demolition permits, sanitation infrastructure, and half the labor unions in the state.
Anyone controlling those systems could reward friends and destroy enemies without firing a shot.
My father had taught me that power came from fear.
Richard Bell seemed to understand something deeper.
Real power made people believe they were choosing to obey.
Sofia shifted in her sleep.
Bear raised his head.
Then relaxed.
Luca followed my gaze.
“You believe Gabriel?”
“About her?”
“Yes.”
I did not answer immediately.
“I believe Elena would have died for her.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No.”
He waited.
“I believe she’s mine.”
Luca nodded.
No surprise.
“You should test.”
“I will.”
“For security.”
“I know.”
He closed the laptop.
“You also need to decide who gets told.”
“No one.”
“Matteo already knows.”
“Then one person too many knows.”
Luca understood.
If the city learned Sofia Moretti existed, every rival I had would see leverage.
Every politician would see an heir.
Every enemy would see a target.
And now six hundred million dollars sat behind her name.
My desk phone rang.
Carlo.
“We got something from the prisoner.”
“Talk.”
“He says the crew was hired through a broker.”
“Name?”
“Mason Reed.”
I knew Reed.
Former intelligence contractor.
Now a fixer for wealthy men who wanted dirty work separated from their hands.
“Location?”
“Usually Washington.”
That connected to Whitmore.
“Anything else?”
“The prisoner heard the client called ‘the Senator.’”
Luca swore.
“Whitmore.”
“Maybe.”
I never trusted obvious answers.
“What did they want from Sofia?”
“Alive.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“He doesn’t know.”
Matteo’s trust inherited if Sofia died.
So Matteo wanted death.
Someone else wanted her alive.
Two factions.
That made the game far more dangerous.
“Keep him alive,” I said.
I hung up.
Sofia’s voice came from the couch.
“Who wants me?”
She was awake.
I turned.
“You should be sleeping.”
“You talk loud.”
Luca hid a smile.
I glared at him.
Sofia sat up.
Bear stretched.
“Is the senator bad?”
“You heard that too.”
“Yes.”
I walked toward her.
“Do you know the name Charles Whitmore?”
She thought.
“No.”
“Gabriel never mentioned him?”
“No.”
“What about Richard Bell?”
She shook her head.
“Daddy didn’t talk about rich people.”
“Technically your grandfather was one.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Am I rich?”
I regretted speaking.
Luca definitely smiled this time.
“Not something you need to worry about.”
She gave me the look.
I sighed.
“Yes.”
“How rich?”
“Very.”
She looked down at her torn sweater.
“Then why did we have no heat?”
That question cut through everything.
Because money means nothing if you cannot touch it.
Because adults had built wars around a child who slept cold.
Because Gabriel had protected her identity so completely that he let her live poor rather than risk exposing her.
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
Then looked at the kitchen tray nearby.
“Can Bear be rich too?”
Luca laughed.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“She’s your daughter.”
I threw a pen at him.
For a moment, the room felt normal.
Then my private line rang.
Only six people had that number.
Five were in the house.
I answered.
“Moretti.”
A woman spoke.
“Mr. Moretti, my name is Evelyn Shaw.”
I recognized it.
United States Attorney for the Eastern District.
Not a friend.
Not exactly an enemy.
“What does the federal government want at six in the morning?”
“To stop a child from being murdered.”
I stood.
Luca immediately became serious.
“How do you know?”
“Because Gabriel Santoro contacted my office three weeks ago.”
Sofia heard her father’s name.
She jumped up.
“Where is he?”
I raised a hand.
“Proof.”
Evelyn continued.
“He provided evidence of corruption involving Senator Whitmore and requested witness protection for himself and a minor.”
“Why wasn’t he in protection?”
“He disappeared before the transfer.”
“Or your office betrayed him.”
Silence.
“I considered that possibility.”
I liked her answer.
Most federal officials would have become defensive.
“Who knew?”
“Four people.”
“Names.”
“No.”
“Then we’re done.”
“Mr. Moretti, Gabriel told me something else.”
I waited.
“He said if he disappeared, I should contact you only after the girl reached your custody.”
“How would he know that?”
“Because he believed you were the only person Matteo Moretti was afraid of.”
Sofia walked closer.
“Can she find Daddy?”
Evelyn heard her.
“Is that Sofia?”
“No.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“You say her name on an unsecured line again and this conversation ends permanently.”
A pause.
“Understood.”
“Where do you want to meet?”
“Federal building.”
I laughed.
“Try again.”
“Neutral location.”
“Saint Anthony’s.”
“When?”
“One hour.”
“That’s too soon.”
“That’s why I chose it.”
I hung up.
Luca shook his head.
“You trust her?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Get the cars.”
Sofia crossed her arms.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She raised the infamous eyebrow.
“No.”
“Daddy talked to her about me.”
“That makes her more dangerous, not less.”
Sofia looked frustrated.
“What if she knows where he is?”
“I’ll ask.”
“What if she lies?”
“I’ll know.”
“How?”
“Practice.”
She considered.
Then she walked to the desk and picked up Elena’s locket.
“Take this.”
“Why?”
“So you remember to come back.”
I stared at her.
The room blurred for half a second.
I accepted it.
“I’ll come back.”
“You promise?”
Promises were dangerous.
I had spent my life avoiding them.
“Yes.”
I fastened the chain around my neck.
“I promise.”
One hour later, Saint Anthony’s Church was empty except for Evelyn Shaw.
She stood near the altar in a dark suit beneath a winter coat.
No visible security.
That meant there were at least twelve agents outside.
“You came alone,” she said.
“So did you.”
She smiled faintly.
“Technically.”
I sat in the front pew.
“Talk.”
She placed a folder beside me.
Inside were photographs.
Gabriel entering a motel.
Gabriel meeting Evelyn.
Gabriel handing over documents.
Alive.
Taken nineteen days earlier.
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
“Not good enough.”
“He vanished after telling us someone inside the Justice Department was compromised.”
The list.
Of course.
“What did he give you?”
“Part of a ledger.”
“Names?”
“Yes.”
“Whitmore?”
Her face answered.
“You’re carrying the rest, aren’t you?” she asked.
I smiled.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because Gabriel told me the final ledger would reach you with Sofia.”
Smart.
Too smart.
“Then your office has a leak.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“That’s what I need your help proving.”
I stood.
“You think I’m joining the federal government?”
“I think you and I want the same man.”
“Whitmore?”
“No.”
She looked directly at me.
“Matteo.”
Before I could answer, the church doors exploded inward.
Gunfire ripped through the sanctuary.
Evelyn fell behind a stone column.
I drew my pistol.
A bullet tore through the pew where I had been sitting.
Men entered from both sides.
Federal tactical agents returned fire from the balcony.
Chaos filled the church.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message.
Unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
Sofia.
Sitting in my study.
A gun pressed against Bear’s head.
Beneath it were five words.
BRING THE LEDGER OR SHE DIES.
I stared at the image.
The timestamp was thirty seconds old.
May you like
Someone was inside my house again.
And this time, they had my daughter.
