Chapter 4 - THE FAMILY OF DEAD MEN
Victor Moretti had been dead eleven years.
Adrian had carried his coffin.
He was growing tired of that sentence.
Quinn froze the video.
Victor.
Older than Adrian remembered.
Same nose.
Same heavy eyelids.
A gold ring on his right hand.
No question.
Evelyn looked between Adrian and Matteo.
“How many dead relatives do you have?”
Matteo almost laughed.
Adrian did not.
“Apparently fewer than advertised.”
That got the smallest breath from Evelyn.
Not a laugh.
Close.
Good.
Quinn said:
“We ran facial comparison against archived records.”
“And?”
“Ninety-seven percent probability.”
“Alive now?”
“We don’t know.”
Adrian leaned back.
Victor had supposedly died of a heart attack in Sicily.
Body flown home.
Open casket.
Adrian remembered the face.
Waxlike.
Still.
Could it have been someone else?
“Matteo?”
His brother looked angry.
“I did not know.”
For once, Adrian believed him.
“Father?”
“Maybe.”
Everything circled Lorenzo.
The patriarch.
Dead.
Maybe.
Adrian hated even thinking that.
“My father’s body was cremated.”
Matteo said quietly:
“Yes.”
No verification now.
Ash cannot answer questions.
Quinn opened the next file.
Victor speaking with Marco.
Audio clearer.
“Vale has the Providence property ready.”
Marco asked:
“And if she remembers?”
Victor:
“She won’t.”
Adrian felt cold.
Marco:
“Adrian will tear the city apart.”
Victor smiled.
“That is the point.”
Silence.
Evelyn whispered:
“What?”
Quinn paused.
Adrian understood.
“Distraction.”
Matteo nodded.
“While Adrian searched for you, someone moved operations.”
Which operations?
The next folder answered.
Three years of Moretti shipping acquisitions.
Contracts Adrian believed his board negotiated while he chased Evelyn.
Atlantic routes.
Vale-linked ports.
Shell companies.
Victor positioned assets under Adrian’s name while Sebastian consolidated logistics elsewhere.
Adrian’s grief had been operational cover.
He looked sick.
Evelyn saw.
“Was that why?”
“Part.”
Matteo looked at the screen.
“They needed Adrian emotionally useless.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I was not useless.”
“No.”
Matteo’s voice softened unexpectedly.
“You were dangerous in every direction except the right one.”
That was worse.
True.
Adrian had interrogated rivals.
Broken alliances.
Started wars.
Killed men based on information Victor may have planted.
Every act of revenge had helped hide the actual network.
“How many?” Evelyn asked.
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“People you hurt because you thought they took me.”
The question came without accusation.
That made it harder.
Adrian did not answer.
She understood.
“Enough.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
He could not ask forgiveness for crimes done in her name.
They were his.
Quinn continued.
“The EVELYN folder also contains medical records.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“No.”
Quinn stopped.
Choice.
Good.
“We can wait.”
“Yes.”
Wait.
They moved to financials.
One payment chain led from Victor’s trust to Bell & Gray Funeral Services six years ago.
Matteo’s funeral.
Another eleven years ago.
Victor’s funeral.
Same funeral director:
Charles Gray.
Alive.
Retired in Maine.
Quinn smiled for the first time.
“A living person.”
Adrian almost laughed.
“Arrest him before he dies.”
“He is being located.”
Then Dante entered.
His face was pale.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“I ran Marco’s old credential logs.”
“And?”
“He accessed the private relocation system under my account.”
Dante looked destroyed.
“From my home computer.”
Adrian stared.
“Were you home?”
“No.”
“Who was?”
“My wife.”
Silence.
Dante had been married then.
Lucia Russo.
She died eighteen months ago.
Cancer.
Real cancer?
Adrian hated himself for doubting every death now.
“Did Lucia know Marco?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Cousins.”
Adrian had forgotten.
Chicago families folded into each other.
“Could she access your system?”
“No.”
Dante corrected:
“She knew passwords sometimes.”
More silence.
“Why?”
“I was careless.”
No excuse.
Good.
Evelyn looked at him.
“Did Lucia hate me?”
Dante looked horrified.
“No.”
“Then why help?”
“I do not know that she did.”
Correct.
Evidence.
Quinn asked:
“Can we image the old computer?”
“It’s in storage.”
“Do it.”
Dante nodded.
Then looked at Adrian.
“There’s more.”
Of course.
“Lucia received monthly payments.”
Adrian’s pulse slowed.
“From?”
“Vale Foundation.”
“How much?”
“Ten thousand.”
“For?”
“Consulting.”
Dante laughed bitterly.
“She did not consult.”
Evelyn whispered:
“Maybe blackmail.”
Everyone looked.
She hugged herself.
“Vale liked paying people so later he could say they worked for him.”
Memory.
“Did he pay you?”
“No.”
She paused.
“Not money.”
Adrian did not ask.
Not now.
Quinn did.
“What did he give you?”
“Privileges.”
“What kind?”
“Books. Garden. Phone calls.”
Adrian’s chest tightened.
Conditional humanity.
Reward system.
“Phone calls to who?”
Evelyn’s face changed.
“A woman.”
“Name?”
“She said she was my sister.”
Adrian went still.
Evelyn had one sister.
Clara.
Dead in a car accident five years ago.
No.
Please.
“Clara?”
Evelyn stared.
“You told me she died.”
“She did.”
“Did you see her body?”
The question.
Same pattern.
Adrian closed his eyes.
“No.”
“Who identified her?”
He already knew.
“Victor.”
Everyone went silent.
Evelyn started laughing.
Not humor.
Shock.
“My sister might be alive.”
“Maybe.”
Adrian refused certainty.
Good.
She looked at him.
“That was careful.”
“I am learning.”
The old Evelyn might have smiled.
This Evelyn looked away.
Still.
A small bridge.
Quinn searched the medical drive index.
One folder:
CLARA W.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
“Open it.”
Quinn did.
Records from a psychiatric facility in Vermont.
Patient:
Clara Winters.
Age matched.
Photograph.
Evelyn screamed.
Her sister.
Alive.
At least two years ago.
The latest record:
Discharged eight months ago to guardian.
Guardian name:
VICTOR MORETTI.
Evelyn stood so fast the chair fell.
“Where is she?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Find her.”
Quinn nodded.
“We will.”
Adrian stood too.
Evelyn backed away.
He stopped.
Right.
No automatic approach.
She saw.
Then surprised him.
She crossed the space.
Not into his arms.
She grabbed his sleeve.
“Find her.”
He looked at her hand on him.
Then her face.
“I will help.”
“No.”
She tightened her grip.
“You know people.”
“Yes.”
“Use them.”
There it was.
Temptation.
His world.
Private men.
Illegal access.
Threats.
Fast answers.
He could find Clara quicker than procedure.
Maybe.
Or destroy evidence.
Maybe.
He looked at Quinn.
“Can I use private investigators under your direction?”
Quinn raised an eyebrow.
“Licensed.”
“Yes.”
“No hacking.”
Adrian sighed.
“Fine.”
Evelyn stared.
“You asked permission.”
“From the investigation.”
“You never did that.”
“No.”
“What changed?”
He looked at her.
“You disappeared.”
Silence.
He regretted it immediately.
Too much weight.
Too close to making her pain his lesson.
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean.”
She let go of his sleeve.
Then the surgeon returned with discharge instructions.
Evelyn was medically stable.
Where would she go?
Not Vale estate.
Not Adrian’s Chicago home.
Not Matteo.
Agent Quinn offered a protected residence.
Evelyn agreed.
Adrian felt relief.
Then she added:
“If Adrian is not told the address.”
Pain.
He nodded.
“Agreed.”
Her eyes searched his face.
Maybe expecting argument.
None.
She whispered:
“Thank you.”
Again.
A reward he did not want to deserve for basic respect.
Before leaving, Quinn handed Adrian one printed ledger page.
“What?”
“A financial code repeats in the Moretti transactions.”
Adrian looked.
V-13.
“Victor?”
“Maybe.”
“Thirteen?”
Quinn pointed.
“Every V-13 payment was followed by a death or disappearance connected to your family.”
Matteo.
Victor’s fake death.
Clara’s disappearance.
Evelyn.
Marco.
Lucia.
Adrian’s blood cooled.
Then one recent line.
V-13 — APPROVED — A. MORETTI.
Date:
Tomorrow.
Adrian stared.
“Approved for what?”
Quinn looked at him.
“That is what we need to find out.”
A death code.
Scheduled.
Bearing Adrian’s name.
And this time Adrian had not buried the victim yet.
Dante remained after Evelyn left for the protected residence.
He stood in the hospital corridor staring at the floor.
“Boss.”
Adrian looked at him.
“I should have known about Lucia.”
“No.”
Dante’s head lifted.
“You are going to say none of this is my fault?”
“No.”
Adrian’s voice stayed flat.
“You reused passwords. You let family access systems because you believed family was outside the threat model.”
Dante absorbed that.
“And?”
“And Victor exploited it.”
“So it is my fault.”
“It is your responsibility.”
Adrian looked toward the elevator where Evelyn had disappeared.
“I am learning those are not always the same sentence.”
Dante nodded.
Then:
“What if Lucia helped knowingly?”
Adrian did not answer immediately.
The old answer would have been simple.
Betrayal erased love.
One category replaced another.
Now nothing felt that clean.
“Then you will know something painful and true about someone you loved.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“That is all?”
“No.”
Adrian looked at him.
“You will still have to decide what the rest of the marriage meant.”
Dante laughed bitterly.
“You sound like a therapist.”
“Insult me again and you’re fired.”
The joke was weak.
It helped anyway.
Before Quinn moved to the next file, Evelyn asked for a break.
Everyone left except Clara on the video screen and Adrian by the far wall.
He did not move closer.
Evelyn stared at the frozen image of Victor.
“I used to think remembering more would make me less afraid.”
Adrian waited.
“It doesn’t.”
“No.”
“It gives the fear names.”
He looked at the screen.
“Sometimes names help.”
“Sometimes.”
She pulled the hospital blanket higher.
“Do you know what I’m afraid of most?”
He shook his head.
“That I will remember something about you that makes all of this easier.”
Adrian frowned.
“Easier?”
“If I remember you hurting me, then I know where to put you.”
The words landed.
“And if you don’t?”
“Then I have to decide who you are now.”
Silence.
Adrian nodded slowly.
“That sounds harder.”
“It is.”
He wanted to tell her who he was.
Wanted to give evidence in his favor.
Instead he said:
“You don’t have to decide quickly.”
Her eyes filled.
May you like
“No one has said that to me in three years.”
Adrian looked away so she would not have to watch what that did to him.
