Chapter 5 - THE BOX AT GRAND CENTRAL
Victor insisted the storage box was a trap.
Gabriel insisted Victor was the trap.
I insisted both of them stop acting like angry teenagers.
At nine the next morning, we went to Grand Central.
Not together.
Victor’s men entered first.
Then Gabriel.
Then me.
Lily stayed at the secure apartment with the doctor and four guards.
Leaving her felt impossible.
But taking her was worse.
The locker room sat below the main concourse behind a row of maintenance offices.
Gabriel inserted the brass key.
Nothing happened.
He frowned.
“Maybe wrong box.”
I looked at the locket.
“Try this.”
The back engraving had a tiny raised point.
I pressed it against the center of the lock.
A hidden compartment opened.
Gabriel stared.
“Well.”
Inside was a second key.
Victor exhaled.
“Elena.”
We opened the box.
There was no money.
No diamonds.
No guns.
Only a stack of photographs, three cassette tapes, a notebook and a sealed letter.
My hands trembled.
The letter had my name.
HANNAH.
I opened it.
My mother’s handwriting filled the page.
My darling Hannah,
If you are reading this, I failed to come home.
I stopped breathing.
Gabriel put a hand on my shoulder.
I continued.
There are truths I wanted to spare you from. But secrets only protect children until the people who created those secrets decide to use them.
I looked at Victor.
His eyes were fixed on the letter.
I read silently.
Salvatore’s archive does not belong to the Morettis or Valentis. It belongs to the people they hurt.
My mother wrote that she had divided the access sequence into three pieces.
The locket.
Gabriel’s key.
And a voice recording.
“A voice recording?”
Gabriel picked up the cassette.
Victor’s face changed.
“Elena’s voice.”
We found an old tape player in a nearby equipment room.
Gabriel inserted the cassette.
Static.
Then my mother.
I had not heard her voice in twenty-three years.
My knees nearly gave out.
“Hannah, Gabriel… if both of you are hearing this, I am sorry.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
My mother continued.
“Do not trust family names. They are only labels men use to justify sins.”
Victor looked away.
“The archive is hidden where Salvatore trusted no criminal to look.”
Then a pause.
“A church.”
Gabriel frowned.
“There are ten thousand churches.”
The tape continued.
“The place where Hannah was baptized.”
I looked at Victor.
“St. Anne’s.”
Victor nodded.
Brooklyn.
The church still existed.
Then my mother’s voice changed.
“There is one more thing.”
Static crackled.
“If Victor is with you, ask him about Anthony.”
Victor froze.
Gabriel slowly turned.
“Who is Anthony?”
Victor said nothing.
The tape ended.
Gabriel smiled without humor.
“This is becoming a habit.”
I looked at Victor.
“Who is Anthony?”
“My younger brother.”
“You have a brother?”
“Had.”
“When did he die?”
Victor’s face became unreadable.
“He didn’t.”
Gabriel laughed.
“Of course.”
I wanted to scream.
“Where is he?”
“No one knows.”
My mother’s notebook answered.
Inside were payments.
Names.
Dates.
One appeared repeatedly.
A.M.
Anthony Moretti.
Victor sat down.
“Elena thought Anthony was the traitor.”
Gabriel folded his arms.
“And you protected him.”
Victor looked furious.
“He was seventeen.”
“He got people killed.”
“We didn’t know.”
“You always say that.”
Victor stood.
Gabriel stood too.
I pushed between them.
“Stop.”
A guard appeared.
“We have movement.”
Victor turned.
“What?”
“Two men entered the east corridor.”
“Valenti?”
“Unknown.”
Victor grabbed my arm.
“We leave.”
Too late.
The fire alarm went off.
People flooded the hallway.
Smoke rolled from a trash can.
In the confusion, someone slammed into me.
A hand grabbed my locket.
I screamed.
Gabriel tackled the attacker.
Victor caught a second man.
Within seconds, both were pinned.
One attacker bit down hard.
His body convulsed.
Poison.
The other laughed.
Victor grabbed his collar.
“Who sent you?”
The man smiled.
“Anthony sends his love.”
Then he swallowed something.
Victor tried to stop him.
Too late.
Both men died within seconds.
Gabriel stared at Victor.
“So your dead brother is alive.”
Victor’s face had gone pale.
“No.”
“You heard him.”
“No.”
“What does Anthony look like?” I asked.
Victor looked at me.
“Brown hair. Gray eyes.”
“Age?”
“Fifty-two.”
My stomach tightened.
“Scar on his jaw?”
Victor froze.
“What?”
I thought of Michael.
“No.”
Victor grabbed my shoulders.
“Who?”
“Michael has a scar.”
“Not him.”
“Then Daniel.”
I searched my memory.
Daniel Vale.
Daniel Valenti.
The man from the fundraiser.
Gray eyes.
A strange resemblance to Victor I had never noticed.
Victor stepped back.
“No.”
“What?”
Gabriel looked between us.
Victor whispered.
“Anthony had a son.”
The pieces fell together.
Daniel Valenti was not Dominic’s biological son.
He was Anthony Moretti’s.
Which meant Lily was not just Valenti blood.
She was Moretti blood too.
And somewhere, an old betrayal had connected every family in the room.
We left Grand Central immediately.
But when we returned to the secure apartment, the front door was open.
Victor’s guards were down.
Alive.
Drugged.
The nurse lay unconscious in the hallway.
My blood froze.
“Lily!”
I ran.
The crib was empty.
No.
No.
No.
I screamed her name.
Victor searched the rooms.
Gabriel grabbed the nurse.
“Wake up!”
Then I saw something on the pillow.
A single pearl earring.
Margaret.
Beneath it was a note.
Bring Elena’s recording to St. Anne’s.
Come alone, Hannah.
Or your daughter will learn what snow feels like before she learns to walk.
I stared at the words.
Everything inside me became cold.
Victor touched my arm.
I pulled away.
“They have my baby.”
“We will get her back.”
“No.”
“Hannah—”
“You don’t get to promise me anything.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“Get the tape.”
Victor shook his head.
“It’s a trap.”
“I know.”
“You cannot go alone.”
“I’m not asking permission.”
He stepped closer.
“Margaret will kill you.”
I looked him directly in the eye.
“Then you better make sure she doesn’t.”
May you like
And for the first time since I entered Victor Moretti’s mansion with a feverish child in my arms, I was no longer afraid of the people hunting us.
I wanted them to be afraid of me.
