Chapter 4 - THE SHOT THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
Victor did not answer for almost a minute.
That minute told me everything.
“You know.”
“Hannah.”
“You know who killed her.”
“I know what happened.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Lily slept in a portable crib beside us inside Victor’s secure Manhattan apartment.
We had been moved there after the hospital.
The windows were bulletproof.
The doors were steel reinforced.
It felt more like a luxury prison than a home.
I held Daniel’s note in my hand.
Ask Victor who pulled the trigger.
“Tell me.”
Victor poured himself water.
His hand was steady.
His eyes were not.
“My father ordered Elena’s death.”
I stared at him.
“Your father.”
“Yes.”
“You said the Valentis killed her.”
“That is what I believed for twenty-three years.”
“When did you learn otherwise?”
“Three years ago.”
I crossed the room and slapped him again.
This time harder.
He took it.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me stand there believing another lie.”
“I was trying to determine what Daniel knew.”
“This is my mother!”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t!”
My voice broke.
“You got to become rich and powerful while she was buried under a fake story!”
Victor’s face tightened.
“You think I don’t know what it cost?”
“Then tell me!”
He looked toward Lily.
I lowered my voice.
Victor finally spoke.
“My father learned Elena had Salvatore’s archive key.”
“The locket.”
“Yes.”
“He wanted it?”
“He wanted the archive destroyed.”
“Why?”
“Because his name was in it.”
I felt sick.
“For what?”
Victor looked at the floor.
“Federal judges. Port officials. Police officers. My father had corrupted half the city.”
“And your mother?”
“Dead long before.”
“What did Elena know?”
“Everything.”
Victor walked toward the window.
“She arranged to meet me near the Hudson.”
I listened.
“She believed I could help her expose him.”
“Did you?”
“I never got the chance.”
“What happened?”
“My father sent Margaret.”
I froze.
“Your aunt.”
“Yes.”
“With orders to bring Elena back.”
“Alive?”
Victor hesitated.
That hesitation hurt.
“At first.”
“What happened?”
“Elena refused.”
I could see the scene in my mind.
My mother.
Young.
Terrified.
Defiant.
“Margaret shot her.”
The room went silent.
My knees weakened.
“Margaret killed my mother.”
Victor nodded.
I sat down.
All my anger disappeared.
Not because I forgave him.
Because grief was heavier.
“She left her in the car?”
“No.”
Victor’s voice was quiet.
“My father’s men staged the crash.”
I covered my face.
For most people, grief fades.
Mine had just become new again.
After a while, I asked, “Why is Margaret helping the Valentis now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said she blamed Elena.”
“She did.”
“So maybe she wants the archive.”
“Possible.”
“And Gabriel?”
Victor’s face hardened.
“She knows he’s my son.”
“Would she kill him?”
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
I looked at him.
“Then we save him.”
“We will.”
“How?”
Victor placed a map on the table.
“The kidnappers sent coordinates.”
“Where?”
“An abandoned shipping yard in Red Hook.”
“They want Lily.”
“And the locket.”
“We’re not bringing Lily.”
“No.”
“Then they kill Gabriel.”
Victor stared at the map.
“I have another plan.”
Of course he did.
Four hours later, I sat in the back of an armored SUV wearing a vest beneath my coat.
Victor had argued.
I had argued louder.
“You stay in the vehicle,” he said.
“I’m coming inside if necessary.”
“No.”
“If my brother is there, I’m coming inside.”
He looked at me.
“You met the man six hours ago through a hostage video.”
“He’s still my brother.”
Victor nodded slowly.
“Elena would have said the same thing.”
“Stop comparing me to her.”
“Why?”
“Because every time you do, I can hear how much you still love her.”
Victor looked away.
The shipping yard appeared ahead.
Snow had stopped, but the air smelled like metal and river water.
Victor’s team spread out.
A man approached alone.
Tall.
Gray coat.
I recognized him from news articles.
Dominic Valenti.
He looked nearly seventy.
Elegant.
Calm.
Dangerous.
Victor stepped from the SUV.
I watched through tinted glass.
Dominic smiled.
“Victor.”
“Where is my son?”
Dominic’s smile widened.
“So she told you.”
Victor went still.
“What?”
I opened the door slightly.
Dominic continued.
“Elena told you Gabriel was yours.”
Victor’s men raised their weapons.
“So you knew.”
“Of course.”
“Where is he?”
Dominic glanced toward my SUV.
“And Hannah?”
Victor’s expression became lethal.
“Do not say her name.”
Dominic laughed.
“Oh, Victor. You’re still emotional about Elena.”
I hated him instantly.
“Bring me the child and locket.”
“Bring me Gabriel.”
Dominic lifted a hand.
A warehouse door opened.
Gabriel was pushed outside.
Hands tied.
Face bruised.
Alive.
I almost cried out.
Then a second man appeared beside him.
Michael Hayes.
My former boyfriend.
He held a gun against Gabriel’s neck.
Rage burned through me.
Victor’s voice remained calm.
“Michael.”
Michael smiled.
“You remember me.”
“I remember killing your brother.”
Michael’s smile disappeared.
Dominic looked amused.
“Now. The child.”
Victor held up a small case.
“The locket first.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
“Open it.”
Victor did.
A silver pendant rested inside.
Fake.
I knew because the real one was beneath my shirt.
Dominic stepped forward.
At that exact moment, Gabriel moved.
He slammed his head backward into Michael’s face.
Chaos erupted.
Shots.
Shouting.
I dropped behind the SUV.
Victor’s men fired toward the warehouse.
Gabriel ran.
Michael grabbed him.
I saw something flash in Michael’s hand.
A knife.
I didn’t think.
I ran.
“Hannah!”
Victor shouted behind me.
Gabriel twisted.
Michael raised the knife.
I picked up a metal pipe from the ground and swung.
It struck Michael’s wrist.
He screamed.
The knife fell.
Gabriel stared at me.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Your sister.”
His eyes widened.
“What?”
Then a bullet struck the wall beside us.
Gabriel grabbed my arm.
“Wonderful meeting you. Run.”
We sprinted behind stacked containers.
Victor appeared seconds later.
He shoved Gabriel behind cover.
“Are you hit?”
Gabriel stared at him.
“You worried about me now?”
Victor’s face changed.
Pain.
Guilt.
Anger.
“Later.”
Dominic’s men began retreating.
Michael disappeared into the warehouse.
Then I saw someone standing on the roof.
A woman.
Silver-blond hair.
Margaret Moretti.
She raised a rifle.
Not toward Victor.
Toward me.
Gabriel saw her too.
He tackled me just as the shot fired.
The bullet hit the container.
Victor looked up.
“Aunt Margaret!”
She smiled.
Then vanished.
The fighting stopped minutes later.
Dominic escaped.
Michael escaped.
Margaret escaped.
But Gabriel was alive.
We returned to the secure apartment just before midnight.
Lily was awake with the nurse.
The moment Gabriel saw her, he stopped walking.
“That’s her?”
“Yes.”
He approached slowly.
Lily stared at him.
Then smiled.
Gabriel laughed.
It transformed his face.
For one second, I saw the brother I might have grown up with.
He touched her tiny hand.
“She looks like Elena.”
Victor turned away.
Gabriel noticed.
“Still can’t say her name without falling apart?”
Victor ignored him.
I looked between them.
“You two clearly have issues.”
Gabriel smiled bitterly.
“He abandoned me.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“I protected you.”
“You watched from a distance.”
“I kept you alive.”
“You never called me your son.”
Victor’s eyes flashed.
“Because anyone who knew you were my son became a target.”
Gabriel laughed.
“Well, that worked beautifully.”
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Both men looked at me.
“We have a sick baby, a murderer, a kidnapping, an ex-boyfriend with a gun and apparently thirty years of family trauma.”
Gabriel blinked.
Victor almost smiled.
“We are not doing father-son therapy tonight.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“I like her.”
“I heard that,” Victor said.
“Good.”
Later, while Victor took a call, Gabriel sat with me in the kitchen.
“I knew about you.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Samuel told me I had a sister.”
“You never contacted me?”
“I tried once.”
“When?”
“You were seventeen.”
I remembered a blank birthday card.
No signature.
Only the words: Keep being brave.
“That was you?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Why didn’t you say who you were?”
“Because two men followed me for a week after I mailed it.”
My chest hurt.
“You knew Mom?”
“A little.”
“You remember her?”
“Pieces.”
“What was she like?”
Gabriel smiled sadly.
“Loud.”
I laughed through tears.
“That sounds right.”
“She sang terribly.”
“She did.”
“And when she got angry, she spoke Italian even though she thought nobody understood her.”
I laughed harder.
For the first time in years, someone else remembered my mother.
Not as a mystery.
As a person.
Gabriel reached into his jacket.
“There’s something else.”
He placed an old brass key on the table.
“What is that?”
“Samuel gave it to me before he died.”
“For what?”
“A storage box.”
“Where?”
“Grand Central.”
My heart accelerated.
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know. Samuel told me only to open it if Elena’s locket resurfaced.”
I touched the pendant beneath my shirt.
Gabriel looked toward Victor.
“He also said something else.”
“What?”
“He said never let Victor open it first.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
Gabriel’s face became serious.
“Because Samuel believed Victor was still protecting the person who ordered Elena’s death.”
I looked toward the hallway.
Victor stood there.
May you like
He had heard everything.
And the look on his face told me Gabriel had just opened a wound far deeper than either of us understood.
