Chapter 7 - ST. CATHERINE’S
The convent had not housed nuns in twenty-seven years.
According to Damian, Salvatore purchased the property through three shell companies after the diocese sold it.
From the road it looked abandoned.
Broken windows.
Stone walls covered in vines.
An old bell tower rising above dead trees.
But the thermal cameras told another story.
Twenty-three heat signatures.
Five vehicles underground.
Generator power beneath the east wing.
Damian studied the drone feed inside the command vehicle.
I sat beside him.
Gabriel’s shoulder had been bandaged.
He had insisted on coming.
Damian had insisted on keeping a gun pointed near him.
That arrangement seemed appropriate.
“Leah could be anywhere inside,” I said.
Damian zoomed the map.
“Old convents are built around central halls. If Salvatore converted the basement, there may be tunnels.”
Gabriel nodded.
“There are.”
Damian looked at him.
“You’ve been here.”
“Once.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“For Salvatore?”
“Yes.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“What did you move?”
“Documents.”
“Children?”
“No.”
I watched Gabriel carefully.
For once, I believed him.
A voice came through Damian’s earpiece.
“Movement, west entrance.”
Security footage appeared.
Thomas Keller stepped outside.
He carried a white cloth.
“Flag,” I said.
Damian almost smiled.
“Thomas never surrenders.”
A phone rang inside the vehicle.
Unknown number.
Damian answered.
“Thomas.”
“You always were dramatic.”
Damian’s voice remained calm.
“You have my daughter.”
“Salvatore has your daughter.”
“I’m looking at you standing outside his building.”
“I said he has her. I didn’t say I’m helping him.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“Where is Leah?”
Thomas heard me.
“Elena.”
“Answer.”
“She’s alive.”
“Where?”
“Basement level two.”
Damian glanced at Gabriel.
“Why tell us?”
“Because Salvatore has lost control.”
“Of what?”
Thomas exhaled.
“He found the original trust documents.”
“And?”
“They require genetic verification before transfer.”
I frowned.
“Then Leah’s DNA proves she’s my child.”
“Yes.”
“And Damian’s.”
Thomas paused.
“Exactly.”
“So?”
“So Salvatore finally learned what I learned months ago.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
“That Vittorio wasn’t my father.”
“Yes.”
“What does that change?”
“Everything.”
Thomas’s voice became serious.
“Vittorio’s trust does not simply transfer money to biological descendants.”
Gabriel looked suddenly alarmed.
“What did you find?”
“You never read Appendix Twelve.”
Gabriel swore softly.
“What is Appendix Twelve?” I asked.
Thomas answered.
“Vittorio knew someone inside the family planned to challenge the inheritance. So he created a condition.”
Damian’s expression darkened.
“Which is?”
“If any trustee is proven to have intentionally concealed or harmed a biological heir…”
Thomas paused.
“…that trustee forfeits all interest.”
I understood.
“Salvatore loses everything.”
“Yes.”
“And control transfers?”
“To the surviving verified heirs.”
“Me.”
“And Bianca’s lawful estate.”
Damian looked toward me.
“Bianca had no child.”
Thomas laughed softly.
“That is where Salvatore has a second problem.”
I closed my eyes.
“Another secret.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Bianca did have a child.”
Damian stood.
“What?”
“A son.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
Damian looked shaken.
“Where is he?”
Thomas went silent.
Then gunfire sounded through the phone.
He shouted.
The call disconnected.
On the drone feed, Thomas dove behind a stone wall.
Men emerged from the convent.
Damian gave the order.
“Move.”
Everything happened at once.
Teams advanced from three directions.
Glass shattered.
Gunfire cracked through the night.
I stayed inside the command vehicle for exactly twenty seconds.
Then I opened the door.
Gabriel grabbed my arm.
“No.”
“My daughter is in there.”
“You’ll get killed.”
“Then help me.”
He stared at me.
A bullet struck the vehicle.
Decision made.
We ran.
Damian had already disappeared into the west wing.
I followed Gabriel through a side entrance.
Inside, the convent smelled like dust and bleach.
We passed an old chapel filled with metal shelves.
Boxes.
Files.
Names.
Hundreds of them.
My stomach turned.
“These are children.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Records.”
“What did Salvatore do?”
“He moved children for wealthy clients.”
“Adoptions?”
“Sometimes.”
The word sometimes chilled me.
“What else?”
Gabriel did not answer.
We reached a staircase.
A man appeared.
Gabriel fired once.
The man dropped.
I flinched.
Gabriel did not.
That was another reminder I had never truly known him.
Downstairs, alarms screamed.
We passed locked rooms containing old cribs.
Medical equipment.
Photographs taped to walls.
I saw babies.
Children.
Numbers.
Dates.
“Jesus.”
Gabriel pushed forward.
“This operation was supposed to end years ago.”
“You knew?”
“I knew pieces.”
“You keep saying pieces like that absolves you.”
“It doesn’t.”
A child cried somewhere below.
I ran.
“Elena!”
I ignored him.
The cry came again.
Not Leah.
Older.
We entered a locked room.
Three children sat inside.
Maybe six.
Eight.
Ten.
Terrified.
I stopped.
The oldest boy stood in front of the others.
“Don’t hurt them.”
My heart broke.
“I won’t.”
I opened the door fully.
“Can you walk?”
He nodded.
Gabriel appeared.
“Take the stairs up. Men in black jackets will help you.”
The boy stared at his gun.
Gabriel holstered it.
“Go.”
They ran.
We continued downward.
At basement level two, we found blood.
A trail.
Damian’s.
I knew before we found him.
He leaned against the wall near a steel door, one hand pressed to his side.
“Damian!”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Not mine.”
Then I saw Anthony lying unconscious nearby.
Damian had beaten him badly.
“Where is Leah?”
Damian pointed toward the steel door.
“Inside.”
I reached for it.
He grabbed my wrist.
“Salvatore has a gun.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
Something passed between us.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Something more complicated.
Shared terror.
Shared blood.
Shared responsibility for the tiny girl beyond the door.
Gabriel approached.
“There’s another entrance through the service room.”
Damian glared.
“You go.”
Gabriel nodded.
Damian looked at me.
“When I open this door, stay behind the wall.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“He has my daughter.”
“Our daughter.”
The words hit both of us.
Damian’s face shifted.
Then he repeated it.
“Our daughter.”
For one second, the chaos disappeared.
Then a gunshot exploded from inside.
I screamed.
Damian kicked the door open.
Salvatore stood at the far end of the room.
Leah was in his arms.
A pistol pressed beneath her chin.
She was sobbing.
“Mama!”
I stepped forward.
Damian caught me.
Salvatore smiled.
“My family always was dramatic.”
“Let her go,” Damian said.
“You’re not even family.”
The insult struck.
Damian did not react.
“Let her go.”
Salvatore looked at me.
“So this is Vittorio’s forgotten daughter.”
I stared at him.
“You killed Bianca.”
His smile faded.
“She made a bad decision.”
“You shot her.”
“No.”
He glanced toward Anthony.
“Someone else handled that.”
Damian looked down at Anthony.
Understanding dawned.
Anthony had been with him for years.
He had known Bianca.
He had helped murder her.
Damian’s face became deadly.
Salvatore tightened his hold on Leah.
“She is worth billions.”
“She’s worth more than that,” I said.
He laughed.
“Spoken like someone who has never had billions.”
I took another step.
Leah reached for me.
“Mama!”
Salvatore pressed the gun tighter.
“Stop.”
I did.
Then another voice came from behind him.
“Put her down.”
Thomas stood in the service doorway.
Gun raised.
Salvatore turned slightly.
That was enough.
Leah bit his hand.
Hard.
He shouted.
She dropped.
Damian fired.
Salvatore’s gun flew across the room.
I ran.
Leah screamed.
I reached her.
Pulled her into my arms.
She wrapped around me.
“Mama, Mama, Mama.”
I cried so hard I could barely see.
Damian dropped beside us.
Leah reached for him too.
“Dada.”
Damian froze.
Everything stopped.
The gunfire.
The shouting.
The blood.
The terrible building.
For Damian Caruso, there was only one word.
Dada.
He pulled Leah against both of us.
May you like
His eyes closed.
And for the first time since I had met him, Damian Caruso cried.
