Chapter 13 - SIX DAYS
The church was empty except for a priest, Elena Voss, and a young man who had Dante Moretti's eyes.
I saw the resemblance before Dante did.
Maybe because he was looking at Elena.
Maybe because no man walks into a church expecting to meet the son he thought died before birth.
The young man stood near the altar in a dark sweater.
Twenty, maybe twenty-one.
Tall.
Lean.
His hair was lighter than Dante's, but his eyes were almost identical.
He looked at Dante with the same expression Dante gave every unknown threat.
Controlled.
Suspicious.
Ready to leave before anyone could decide for him.
Elena stood between them.
She was in her late fifties.
Silver streaked her dark hair.
The woman from the Lake Crown photograph looked older now, but the same sharp jaw and steady posture remained.
Dante stopped halfway down the aisle.
"Who is he?"
Elena did not answer immediately.
The young man did.
"Matteo Voss."
His voice was calm.
Dante's throat moved.
"Your mother?"
"Dead."
Dante looked at Elena.
"Tell me."
Two words.
No threat.
No authority.
Just a man holding himself together by habit.
Elena's face softened.
"Lucia survived the first impact."
Dante closed his eyes.
"No."
"She survived long enough to deliver by emergency surgery."
"No one told me."
"That was intentional."
His eyes opened.
"Whose intention?"
Elena's expression hardened.
"Richard Pierce's."
The church seemed to shrink around us.
Matteo looked at the floor.
Dante looked at him again.
"Why Voss?"
"Because I raised him," Elena said.
"Why?"
"Because Lucia begged me to keep him away from you until it was safe."
Dante staggered one step backward.
It was the first time I had seen him physically lose balance.
He caught the end of a pew.
"She thought I was dangerous to him."
Elena shook her head.
"She thought your name was dangerous to him."
"Same difference."
"No."
Her voice sharpened.
"Do not make this about your guilt because guilt is easier than facts."
Dante looked at her.
I understood immediately why Lucia had trusted this woman.
She was not afraid of him.
Matteo spoke.
"I know who you are."
Dante looked at him.
"I assumed."
"I know what people say."
"Some of it is true."
"Elena says some of it isn't."
"That is also true."
Matteo's jaw tightened.
"Were you going to kill Richard Pierce if you found out what he did?"
Dante did not answer quickly.
That was the right answer.
Then he said, "A younger version of me might have tried."
"And now?"
Dante glanced at me.
I did not know why.
Then he looked back at the son he had met thirty seconds earlier.
"Now I want him exposed before he can rewrite what happened."
Matteo studied him.
"That's not the same as no."
"No."
"At least you're honest."
Dante almost smiled.
It vanished instantly.
Elena led us into a side room.
She placed a metal case on a table.
"Lucia's portion of Michael's evidence."
I stared.
"You had it the whole time?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you give it to anyone?"
"Because Michael told me exactly when to surface."
"When?"
"When Richard made a move against the beneficiary."
"Me."
"Yes."
"Then why were you meeting Nolan?"
Elena's eyes sharpened.
"Because Nolan contacted me."
"Why?"
"He wanted to know whether I would help him stop his father."
I looked at Dante.
Nolan had said something similar.
"Did you believe him?"
"No."
"Why meet him?"
"Because people tell you useful truths while trying to sell you bigger lies."
Dante's mouth twitched.
"You have not changed."
"You have."
"Older."
"Less stupid."
"Debatable."
For half a second, the years between them disappeared.
Then Elena looked at me.
"Nolan is afraid of Richard."
"He still hurt me."
"I know."
"He hurt Lauren."
"I know."
"Do not ask me to feel sorry for him."
"I won't."
Her answer came immediately.
"Understanding a man's fear does not require volunteering to become its victim."
My father could have written that sentence too.
Elena opened the case.
Inside were copies of old account records, photographs, letters, and a small audio recorder.
"This contains Lucia's statement."
Dante went still.
"Her voice?"
"Yes."
His hand hovered over the recorder.
He did not touch it.
"When?"
"Three days before the crash."
"Why did you never give it to me?"
Elena looked at him.
"Because she made me promise."
"She was my wife."
"She was also herself."
The words cut cleanly.
Dante looked away.
Elena turned to me.
"We can activate emergency review of the trust today."
Hope rose.
"Then let's do it."
"There is a problem."
Of course there was.
"What?"
She handed me a court order.
Miriam read it first.
Her face hardened.
"Temporary restraining order."
"Against what?"
"Any alteration, transfer, opening, or disposition of trust property pending hearing."
"When is the hearing?"
Miriam looked at the date.
"Six days."
Elena nodded.
"Richard moved faster than expected."
I laughed bitterly.
"Everyone keeps saying that about him."
Dante read the order.
"Who signed it?"
Miriam named a judge.
Alessandra, who had joined us by video call, swore through the speaker.
"Pierce donated to his election committee for years."
Miriam raised a hand.
"That alone proves nothing."
"There she goes with facts again," Alessandra muttered.
I looked at the date.
Six days.
Not forty-one anymore.
Six.
If Richard secured permanent control before the emergency review, he could bury the evidence behind years of litigation.
Maybe forever.
"What do we need to win?"
Miriam closed the folder.
"We need to prove the fraud case was manufactured to coerce you and interfere with the trust."
"We have Nolan's messages."
"Helpful."
"Lauren."
"Potentially powerful."
"Doyle's calls."
"Very powerful if we can tie them to misconduct."
Elena tapped the metal case.
"And we have the historical motive."
Dante looked at her.
"Lucia's recording."
Elena nodded.
"If she names Richard."
"You haven't listened?"
"Not in fifteen years."
Dante stared at the recorder.
"Play it."
Elena did.
Static filled the small church office.
Then Lucia Moretti's voice came out of the speaker.
Dante closed his eyes.
I watched his hand grip the edge of the table.
Lucia sounded young.
Nervous.
Alive.
"My name is Lucia Moretti."
She gave the date.
"If Elena is playing this, something has happened to me or to Michael Calloway."
Dante's breathing changed.
Lucia continued.
She described the Lake Crown meeting.
She named Richard Pierce.
She named Salvatore Moretti.
She described threats against Arthur Vale.
She said two police officials had agreed to protect financial records from investigation.
Then she said something none of us expected.
"Nolan heard part of it."
I leaned closer.
"He was hiding behind the service door."
Her voice trembled.
"Richard found him afterward."
A pause.
"I heard him tell the boy that if Nolan ever spoke about the meeting, his mother would die."
I closed my eyes.
Fourteen years old.
Threatened with his mother's life.
That explained fear.
It did not explain my bruises.
Lucia's voice softened.
"The boy is not responsible for what his father made him see."
Another pause.
"But if Richard teaches him that fear is the same as power, one day he may become dangerous in his own right."
The recording clicked off.
No one spoke.
Dante opened his eyes.
They were wet.
He did not hide it.
Matteo stared at the recorder.
"That was my mother."
Dante looked at him.
"Yes."
Matteo did not let Dante approach him immediately after the recording ended.
He held up one hand.
Dante stopped.
The gesture was small.
The effect on Dante was enormous.
"I need a minute," Matteo said.
"Take it."
Dante stepped back.
Matteo looked at me.
"Is he always like this?"
"Like what?"
"Careful."
I almost laughed.
"No."
Dante gave me a look.
"He is learning."
Matteo nodded slowly.
"Elena said he used to be worse."
"Elena says many things," Dante muttered.
"Most of them accurate," Elena replied.
For a second, Matteo smiled.
Dante saw it and looked away too quickly.
I realized he was afraid to want anything from his son.
That was new.
Dante was not a man who looked afraid of wanting.
Matteo sat in a wooden chair near the wall.
"What was she like?"
Dante did not pretend to misunderstand.
"Your mother?"
"Yes."
He sat across from him, leaving an empty chair between them.
"Funny."
Elena smiled.
"Very."
"Stubborn."
"Extremely."
"She hated roses."
Matteo blinked.
"Elena always buys white roses on her birthday."
Dante looked at Elena.
"She hated red roses."
Elena rolled her eyes.
"You never specified."
Matteo laughed once.
The sound broke something open in Dante's face.
"She liked old movies," Dante continued.
"She cried at dog food commercials."
"She pretended not to."
"She cheated at cards."
"She did not," Elena said.
"She absolutely did."
Matteo looked between them.
For five minutes, Lucia stopped being evidence.
She became a woman who hated red roses and cheated at cards.
I understood why that mattered.
Abuse and conspiracy had turned so many people into roles.
Victim.
Witness.
Protector.
Boss.
Son.
For a few minutes, they were people again.
Then Miriam's phone rang and the six-day clock returned.
Matteo swallowed.
"Can I hear it again later?"
Dante's face crumpled for one second before he regained control.
"As many times as you want."
My phone vibrated.
Lauren.
I answered immediately.
"Hey."
Her voice was panicked.
"Mia, someone was in my apartment."
I stood.
"Are you safe?"
"I'm in my car."
"Where?"
"I don't know if I should say."
"Don't."
Miriam was already moving.
"Call 911 and go somewhere public."
Lauren was breathing too fast.
"They took the photographs."
My stomach dropped.
"All of them?"
"No."
"What do you still have?"
A sound came through the phone.
A car horn.
Then Lauren whispered.
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"He's here."
"Who?"
Her voice fell to almost nothing.
"Nolan."
The call disconnected.
I looked at Dante.
Six days had just become six seconds in my head.
"We have to find her."
Dante was already moving.
Then my phone lit up with a message from Nolan.
A photograph of Lauren sitting in the passenger seat of his car.
She looked terrified but unharmed.
May you like
Beneath it were seven words.
COME WITHOUT MORETTI IF YOU WANT HER BACK.
