Chapter 10 - THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF
We did not go to Gloucester alone.
That was the first difference between the man my father had raised and the man I was trying to become.
Old Gabriel Moretti would have taken Marco, six armed men, and enough anger to make a terrible decision feel honorable.
Instead, federal agents controlled the perimeter.
Local police blocked the coastal road.
Walsh coordinated negotiations.
Natalie stayed in Boston with Lucia and Noah.
Elena remained in an armored command vehicle three miles from the property.
She hated that part.
“I’m the reason they asked for the card.”
“You’re also the person they may use to escape.”
“They already know the police are involved.”
“Probably.”
“Then why would they stay?”
“Because Daniel thinks he can bargain.”
“With what?”
“Information.”
Elena looked toward the dark coastline.
Rain streaked across the windshield.
“Your family really likes dramatic houses.”
“It’s a disease.”
She smiled faintly.
Then became serious.
“What if Camille isn’t with him willingly?”
That possibility had bothered me.
“She called us.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“No.”
“We still help her?”
I looked at Elena.
After everything Camille had done to her, Elena still asked that question.
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Good.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded like something.”
She stared through the windshield.
“I wanted to know whether you meant what you said.”
“About what?”
“Choosing not to be like them.”
I looked toward the black shape of the house in the distance.
“So did I.”
Walsh approached the vehicle.
“Daniel wants to speak with you.”
“Phone?”
“No. He’s requesting you come to the front gate.”
“Absolutely not,” Elena said.
Walsh almost smiled.
“He’ll be covered by our teams.”
Elena looked at her.
“He has spent eleven years manipulating everyone.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then don’t let Gabriel walk in there because Daniel knows how to insult his father.”
I stared at Elena.
“What?”
“That’s exactly what he’ll do.”
She was probably right.
Walsh said, “Mr. Moretti makes the decision.”
I opened the door.
Elena muttered something.
“What?”
“If you get yourself killed, I’m quitting.”
“You already stopped working.”
“Then I’ll come back just to quit properly.”
I laughed.
Maybe fear does strange things to people.
The walk toward the gate felt longer than it was.
Marco accompanied me.
Federal marksmen watched from concealed positions.
Daniel stood behind the iron gate.
Gray coat.
No tie.
Scar visible across his left hand.
He looked like a man who had spent decades sitting beside power and finally decided he deserved it.
“Gabriel.”
“Daniel.”
“You brought half the government.”
“You sold addresses of vulnerable women.”
“I expected moral outrage.”
“You’re getting legal consequences instead.”
He laughed.
“Your father would be embarrassed.”
There it was.
Exactly as Elena predicted.
“Good.”
His expression changed.
“Anthony understood the world.”
“No. He understood how to survive in one version of it.”
“And you think you’re better?”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“I think I have an opportunity to be.”
Daniel gripped the gate.
“You opened records that will destroy your companies.”
“Maybe.”
“Your father’s partners will turn on you.”
“Let them.”
“You could lose everything.”
“Not everything.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Elena.”
I said nothing.
He smiled.
“Camille was right.”
“This isn’t about romance.”
“It will be.”
I hated how confidently he said it.
Daniel continued.
“Men like you always need someone to save.”
That irritated me because there had been a time it would have been true.
But Elena didn’t need me to save her.
She had protected Rosa’s key for four months.
Raised Noah.
Found the financial fraud.
Recovered her mother’s evidence.
Walked into my boardroom and challenged billionaires with invoices.
If anything, Elena had saved me from continuing to be the man my house expected.
“Where’s Camille?”
Daniel’s smile faded.
“Inside.”
“Is she free to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Then why isn’t she?”
“She has nowhere else to go.”
“That’s her problem.”
“It’s yours too.”
“No.”
Daniel studied me.
“You really ended it.”
“Yes.”
“For tea.”
“For cruelty.”
He shook his head.
“Your father would have laughed.”
“My father is dead.”
Something cold passed through Daniel’s face.
“I know.”
The way he said it made me stop.
Marco noticed too.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Daniel stepped closer to the gate.
“You’ve spent three days asking questions about eleven years ago.”
My pulse changed.
“You should ask about five years ago.”
My father died five years earlier.
Heart attack.
At the Moretti estate.
I had been there.
He collapsed in his study.
Dr. Hayes pronounced him dead.
“What are you saying?”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“Anthony was going to expose me.”
I stared at him.
“After all those years?”
“He found the client list.”
The same kind Evelyn had collected.
“He told me to resign.”
My hands went cold.
“What happened?”
Daniel’s gaze stayed on mine.
“He died.”
Marco stepped forward.
“Careful.”
Daniel laughed.
“You think I killed him?”
“Did you?”
“No.”
A pause.
“But I let him die.”
Something inside me went silent.
“What?”
“He collapsed.”
My pulse roared in my ears.
“I was with him.”
I remembered finding my father.
Alone.
I had always assumed he collapsed after Daniel left.
Daniel continued.
“He reached for his medication.”
“What medication?”
“Heart pills.”
“He wasn’t on heart medication.”
“He had been for three months.”
I thought of Dr. Hayes.
Why hadn’t I known?
“Daniel.”
My voice sounded unfamiliar.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
That was the horror.
Nothing.
“He asked me to call for help.”
Marco moved.
I stopped him.
Daniel looked almost proud.
“I stood there.”
Rain ran down his face.
“By the time I called, it was too late.”
Every lesson my father had taught me screamed for blood.
Every old Moretti instinct came alive.
Marco saw it.
So did Daniel.
He smiled.
“There you are.”
I understood.
This was what he wanted.
Not merely escape.
Proof that I was still Anthony Moretti’s son.
If I attacked him, threatened him, or ordered something reckless, Daniel would become a victim.
The investigation would become a feud.
Evidence would become contaminated by revenge.
I stepped back.
His smile disappeared.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
I looked toward Walsh.
“That’s a confession.”
Agents moved.
Daniel realized too late.
He grabbed the gate.
“No!”
Walsh shouted for him to stay still.
Daniel backed toward the house.
Then the front door opened.
Camille appeared.
She looked nothing like the woman from television.
Hair loose.
Barefoot.
Terrified.
She held something in one hand.
A lighter.
And in the other—
a stack of paper.
“Stop!”
Everyone froze.
Daniel turned.
“What are you doing?”
Camille laughed hysterically.
“What I should have done two days ago.”
She held up the papers.
“The originals.”
Daniel’s face changed.
I understood immediately.
Evelyn’s client list.
Or copies.
Camille flicked the lighter.
A flame appeared.
Walsh shouted.
“Camille, put it down!”
Camille looked at me.
“You ruined my life.”
“No.”
Rain fell harder.
“You did.”
Her face twisted.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“For ending the engagement?”
“For choosing her.”
“I didn’t choose Elena.”
Camille laughed.
“Stop lying.”
“I chose not to marry someone cruel.”
Her hand shook.
“You loved me.”
“Yes.”
That surprised her.
I continued.
“I did.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“And you still ended it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because love doesn’t make character irrelevant.”
For a moment she looked almost human.
Young.
Scared.
Then Daniel stepped toward her.
“Give me the papers.”
She turned.
“Stay away.”
“Camille.”
“You used me.”
He stopped.
“You were already stealing before I met you.”
“You told me nobody would ever catch us.”
“That was before you attacked the maid in front of twenty people.”
Camille laughed wildly.
“So this is Elena’s fault again?”
“No,” I said.
“It’s yours.”
Her eyes snapped toward me.
“Every part you chose is yours.”
The lighter trembled.
Then another voice came through a loudspeaker.
Elena.
I turned toward the command vehicle.
She had somehow convinced Walsh’s team to give her a microphone.
“Camille.”
Camille froze.
“You wanted me here.”
Silence.
“I’m here.”
“Come closer.”
“No.”
Camille smiled bitterly.
“Scared?”
“Yes.”
That answer seemed to confuse her.
Elena continued.
“I’m scared of you.”
Camille’s smile returned.
Then Elena said:
“But being afraid of you doesn’t mean I have to obey you.”
The smile vanished.
“You think Gabriel cares about you?”
“This isn’t about Gabriel.”
“It is!”
“No.”
Elena’s voice remained calm.
“This is about the fact that you burned me because you thought my job made me less important than you.”
Camille’s face changed.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
“You stole him.”
“I never had him.”
The words landed.
Camille looked toward me.
Elena continued.
“You lost him the second he saw who you were.”
Camille’s hand began shaking harder.
Daniel moved behind her.
Marco saw it.
“Camille!”
Daniel lunged for the papers.
Camille screamed.
The lighter fell.
Agents surged forward.
The papers scattered across the wet stone.
Daniel tried to run.
He didn’t make it ten feet.
Camille dropped to her knees.
Marco reached the lighter before anything ignited.
Within seconds, Daniel was handcuffed.
Camille sat in the rain while an agent secured her wrists.
Nobody cheered.
Nobody should have.
It was ugly.
Sad.
A series of terrible choices finally reaching the end of the road.
I walked toward Camille.
She looked up.
Mascara streaked beneath her eyes.
“I hate you.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
“You’re going to let them arrest me.”
“Yes.”
“You could stop it.”
“No.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You mean you won’t.”
I looked at her.
“No. I mean I can’t.”
For the first time, she seemed to understand that my power had limits because I had finally chosen to give it limits.
The agents took her away.
Daniel followed.
Walsh collected the wet documents.
Marco approached.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“That was an odd response.”
“If you were okay after hearing what Daniel said about your father, I’d worry.”
I nodded.
Elena approached from the road.
I stared at her.
“You were told to remain in the vehicle.”
“I remained near it.”
“You used a federal loudspeaker.”
“They handed it to me.”
Walsh walked past.
“I did not.”
Elena looked innocent.
Walsh added, “She took it.”
I stared at Elena.
She shrugged.
“It worked.”
Against my better judgment, I laughed.
Then I stopped.
Because dawn was beginning over the Atlantic.
The storm had passed.
Camille was gone.
Daniel was in custody.
Noah was safe.
Rosa was alive.
May you like
But the Moretti empire my father left me had just cracked open.
And for the first time, I could see daylight through it.
