Chapter 9 - The Choice Sebastian Made
Dominic Caruso looked nothing like the monster I'd imagined.
He looked like someone's grandfather.
Silver hair.
Brown cardigan.
Cane resting beside his chair.
He sat in the center of Loading Dock B beneath fluorescent lights.
No army of men.
No dramatic weapons.
Just Caruso.
And Noah.
The boy was seated ten feet away.
His wrists were secured with plastic ties.
He looked terrified but unharmed.
Sebastian entered alone.
At least that was what Caruso believed.
Morrison's team waited behind concrete walls and maintenance doors.
I remained upstairs with Isabella, listening through an earpiece.
Every breath Sebastian took came through the speaker.
Caruso smiled.
“Antonio's boy.”
Sebastian stopped twenty feet away.
“Let Noah go.”
“Still impatient.”
“He has nothing to do with this.”
“Neither did your daughter seventeen years ago.”
Sebastian's voice remained calm.
“You knew she survived.”
“Eventually.”
“You planted the bomb that killed Elena.”
Caruso's smile faded.
“Yes.”
Upstairs, Isabella closed her eyes.
Sebastian didn't react.
“Why?”
“Your father killed my brother.”
“My daughter didn't.”
“Blood is blood.”
“No.”
Sebastian's answer was immediate.
“That's where you were wrong.”
Caruso leaned back.
“Listen to you.”
“I've had seventeen years to think.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Yes.”
“Exactly where your father stood.”
Sebastian looked at Noah.
“My father came with a gun.”
“And you?”
“Nothing.”
Caruso laughed.
“You expect me to believe Sebastian Moretti walked into this room unarmed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my daughter asked me to come back.”
Upstairs, Isabella covered her mouth.
Caruso studied him.
“She calls you father already?”
“Sometimes by accident.”
Despite everything, Noah gave a nervous laugh.
Caruso looked irritated.
“This isn't funny.”
“No,” Sebastian said.
“It isn't.”
Caruso slowly stood.
“You built an empire from what I did to you.”
Sebastian's jaw tightened.
“You made men fear your name.”
“Yes.”
“You became exactly like us.”
“For a long time.”
“And now?”
Sebastian looked toward the security camera.
“Now my daughter is watching.”
Caruso's face changed.
“She shouldn't be.”
“No.”
Sebastian's voice hardened.
“She should have spent seventeen years watching me make breakfast. Watching me complain about homework. Watching me embarrass her in front of boys like Noah.”
Noah blinked.
“Sir, respectfully—”
“Not now.”
Even Isabella laughed through tears.
Sebastian continued.
“Instead she watched your fear through Margaret. She learned my face from newspapers.”
His voice grew rough.
“My grandson spent his first days without a name on his chart because you taught generations of people that loving a Moretti meant hiding.”
Caruso's smile disappeared.
“You think you're better than me?”
“No.”
Sebastian looked at him.
“I think I'm tired.”
Silence.
“Tired of graves.”
Caruso reached into his cardigan.
Morrison whispered over the radio.
“Stand by.”
Sebastian did not move.
Caruso removed a small pistol.
Upstairs, Isabella gasped.
“Dad.”
Sebastian heard her through the hidden transmitter.
His eyes flickered.
Caruso lifted the weapon.
“Your father begged me to take him instead of you.”
Sebastian stared.
“I know.”
“He died believing he failed.”
“I know.”
“And you will too.”
Sebastian looked at Noah.
Then back at Caruso.
“No.”
Caruso smiled.
“You think police will save you?”
“I think you're going to put the gun down.”
“Why would I?”
“Because killing me doesn't give you what you want anymore.”
Caruso's hand tightened.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“You chose your weakness.”
“No.”
Sebastian's eyes sharpened.
“I chose my family.”
Caruso raised the gun.
Morrison shouted.
Police poured into the loading dock from three entrances.
Caruso swung toward them.
Sebastian moved.
Not toward Caruso.
Toward Noah.
That detail mattered.
He didn't attack.
He didn't reach for the weapon.
He threw himself over the seventeen-year-old boy.
A shot fired.
Isabella screamed.
I grabbed her.
“Wait.”
More shouting.
Then silence.
Morrison's voice came through.
“Suspect down. Weapon secured.”
Isabella was sobbing.
“What about my dad?”
Static.
“Morrison!”
Then his voice returned.
“Moretti is okay.”
Isabella nearly collapsed.
“And Noah?”
“Also okay.”
“What happened?”
“The shot hit the wall.”
We all exhaled.
Five minutes later, Sebastian walked back into the NICU.
Isabella ran at him.
Not cautiously.
Not accidentally.
She ran like a daughter.
He caught her.
“You said you'd come back.”
“I did.”
“You idiot.”
“I've been called worse.”
She hit his chest.
Then hugged him again.
Noah followed behind with a police officer.
Isabella released Sebastian and ran to him.
Sebastian watched them embrace.
His expression darkened.
I elbowed him.
“Behave.”
“He could have stayed farther from her.”
“He was kidnapped.”
“He recovered quickly.”
“Sebastian.”
“Fine.”
Morrison entered.
“Caruso is alive. He'll be charged.”
Sebastian looked at him.
“Good.”
Morrison seemed surprised.
“You don't want five minutes alone with him?”
“No.”
“You're sure?”
Sebastian looked at Isabella.
“Yes.”
Morrison nodded slowly.
“Maybe people can change.”
“Don't ruin my reputation.”
“Wouldn't dream of it.”
The next morning, Margaret gave a full statement.
Vale did too.
The story that emerged was uglier than any of us wanted.
Seventeen years earlier, Vittoria Moretti had learned that Dominic Caruso was planning to target Isabella.
She panicked.
She convinced Evan Vale and Margaret Miller to help fake the baby's death.
The plan was supposed to last weeks.
Then Elena discovered the truth.
Vittoria refused to return Isabella while Caruso remained active.
Elena attempted to take her daughter herself.
Caruso learned of the meeting.
Elena died.
Vittoria never forgave herself.
She disappeared from Sebastian's life years later, allowing him to believe she was dead because Caruso had begun searching for her too.
“Why didn't she tell me eventually?” Sebastian asked Margaret.
“Because every year that passed made the truth harder.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
Margaret looked at Isabella.
“It is cowardice.”
Isabella didn't immediately forgive her.
That was important.
Too many people expected forgiveness to arrive the moment a secret was explained.
Real hurt didn't work like that.
“I love you,” Isabella told Margaret.
Margaret cried.
“But I'm angry.”
“You should be.”
“I don't know if I'll ever trust you the same.”
“I understand.”
“And I'm not moving home with you.”
Margaret looked devastated.
Then nodded.
“Where will you go?”
Isabella glanced at Sebastian.
He immediately said, “Wherever you choose.”
She looked surprised.
“You're not going to offer me a mansion?”
“I have several.”
I groaned.
“Sebastian.”
“What? She asked.”
Isabella laughed.
“I don't want a mansion.”
“Good. They're expensive to heat.”
“You own them.”
“Exactly why I know.”
She sat beside Luca.
“What I want is an apartment.”
“Okay.”
“Near school.”
“Okay.”
“With Noah nearby.”
“No.”
Isabella stared.
Sebastian stared back.
I stepped between them.
“We were doing so well.”
Noah wisely remained silent.
Eventually, they negotiated.
Isabella would finish high school remotely for one semester while caring for Luca.
She would live in a small apartment selected by her, with a security system selected by Sebastian.
No armed guards inside.
No Moretti employees following Noah to class.
Sebastian reluctantly agreed to both.
Then there was one larger question.
His world.
Isabella asked him that evening.
“What happens to all the other stuff?”
“What stuff?”
“The businesses.”
Sebastian looked at me.
I suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
Isabella crossed her arms.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
“Are you still going to be Sebastian Moretti?”
“I can't change my name.”
“You can change what it means.”
That silenced him.
She looked at Luca.
“I don't want him growing up afraid of you.”
Sebastian sat across from her.
“Neither do I.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
He considered the question for a long time.
“I don't know yet.”
She nodded.
“At least that's true.”
Three days later, the newspapers reported something no one expected.
Sebastian Moretti's attorneys announced the sale or dissolution of several businesses long suspected of ties to organized crime.
Cooperation agreements followed.
So did investigations.
Sebastian wasn't transformed overnight into a saint.
There were lawyers.
Negotiations.
Old accusations.
Old enemies.
And consequences that would take years to settle.
But he started.
When Morrison heard, he visited the NICU.
“You know,” the detective said, “this could still end with you in court.”
Sebastian rocked Luca against his chest.
“I assumed.”
“Maybe prison.”
“I know.”
“Does that bother you?”
Sebastian looked down at his grandson.
“Yes.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because seventeen years ago I taught everyone around me that the only way to protect my daughter was to lie.”
He adjusted Luca's blanket.
“I'd like to teach her something else before she's eighteen.”
Morrison studied him.
“What?”
“That consequences don't disappear because you're afraid of them.”
For once, Morrison had no joke.
Then Luca opened his eyes.
Sebastian smiled.
“Hello, piccolo.”
Isabella walked into the room carrying two cups of coffee.
She handed me one.
Then she stopped beside Sebastian.
“You're holding him wrong.”
He looked offended.
“I have more NICU hours than you.”
“I'm his mother.”
“I was holding premature babies before you learned to walk.”
“You thought I was dead.”
“That seems unnecessarily personal.”
She laughed.
Then she took Luca.
Sebastian pretended to be offended.
I watched them.
A father.
A daughter.
A grandson.
Not healed.
Not completely.
But together.
Then Nadia entered holding a small box.
“This came from Detective Morrison.”
Sebastian frowned.
“What is it?”
Inside was the hospital bracelet.
Isabella's original bracelet.
The one Sebastian had worn beneath his watch for seventeen years.
He touched it.
“I thought this was evidence.”
“It was released.”
Isabella looked at him.
“Are you going to keep wearing it?”
Sebastian considered the question.
Then slowly removed his watch.
For the first time, he untied the faded bracelet from his wrist.
His skin beneath it was pale.
A mark left by seventeen years.
He placed the bracelet into Isabella's hand.
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“Why not?”
May you like
Sebastian glanced at Luca.
“Because you're not missing anymore.”
