Chapter 4
I screamed his name.
The piano tipped into the opening.
Mom grabbed my coat before I fell after him.
Vincent reached the edge and shined a light into the hole.
Joseph had landed on a maintenance platform fifteen feet below.
He was conscious.
His leg was trapped beneath broken wood.
Moretti’s men were already moving through the lower tunnel.
“We need to reach him,” Vincent said.
Kane appeared behind us.
“There’s a stairwell at the end of the platform.”
“Where were you?” Vincent demanded.
“Opening the east gate.”
“You disappeared when the shooting started.”
“I was doing my job.”
Vincent did not trust him.
Neither did I.
But the east gate lifted, and Joseph’s men began evacuating us.
I refused to leave without him.
Vincent gave me a small flashlight.
“Stay between Rose and me.”
We ran down the stairs.
The lower tunnel was almost completely dark.
Joseph had freed his leg by the time we reached him.
He could not stand.
Blood darkened his pants near the knee.
Mom knelt beside him.
“You always did make an entrance.”
Joseph stared at her.
“You lied about my child.”
“And you are angry now?”
“I searched for you.”
“You searched because you thought I had evidence.”
“I searched because I loved you.”
My mother froze.
Vincent looked away.
Even beneath the depot, with enemies moving toward us, the words changed the air.
Mom pressed cloth against Joseph’s leg.
“You loved power more.”
“I was twenty-eight and stupid.”
“You became more powerful.”
“I did not say I became wiser.”
Footsteps sounded in the tunnel.
Vincent raised his weapon.
Nicholas Salvini appeared alone.
His hands were visible.
“I came to help.”
Joseph laughed through the pain.
“You stood beside Moretti.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor has my daughter.”
Everyone fell silent.
Nicholas explained quickly.
His eighteen-year-old daughter, Mia, had disappeared two weeks earlier.
Moretti sent him a photograph proving she was alive.
He ordered Nicholas to appear in the video as Marco and claim Audrey was his child.
“Where is Marco?” Joseph asked.
“Dead. Moretti killed him eleven years ago.”
“Proof?”
Nicholas removed a ring from his pocket.
The Salvini family crest was carved into it.
Joseph recognized it.
Marco never removed that ring.
“Why should we trust you?” Vincent asked.
“You shouldn’t. But if you want to leave this tunnel alive, follow me.”
An explosion shook the station.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Moretti was sealing the exits.
Nicholas led us through a narrow utility passage.
Vincent and Kane carried Joseph between them.
Mom held my hand.
I had not held her hand in public since I was twelve.
Now I was afraid to release it.
“What was in the red envelope?” I asked.
“Evidence.”
“About Joseph?”
“About all seven of us.”
“The tattoo group?”
Mom nodded.
“Moretti believes I have the original ledger showing who betrayed whom.”
“Do you?”
She looked at me.
“I hid it before you were born.”
“Where?”
“I promised myself I would never tell anyone.”
“A man kidnapped you for it.”
“He didn’t kidnap me from the apartment.”
I stopped.
“What?”
Mom looked ashamed.
“I went with Nicholas.”
Joseph heard her.
“You walked into that trap willingly?”
“I received a photograph of Audrey serving your table. Moretti already knew who she was.”
She had staged the struggle at our apartment so Mrs. Alvarez would call me.
Mom hoped Joseph would surround me with protection while she met Nicholas and negotiated for Moretti’s evidence.
Moretti betrayed them both.
“You used me to bring Joseph into this,” I said.
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You lied to me.”
“I had no other choice.”
“That’s what everyone says when they choose for me.”
My mother flinched.
Nicholas urged us forward.
The passage opened beneath an old warehouse.
A van waited outside.
The driver was Teresa.
She stared at Nicholas.
“You look like your father.”
Nicholas lowered his eyes.
“You knew about me?”
“Your mother came to the neighborhood once.”
Joseph was placed in the back.
Teresa drove us to a private medical clinic controlled by the Salvinis.
Doctors treated his leg.
The bullet had only grazed him during the fall, but the impact had torn a ligament.
He would need surgery.
Joseph refused medication until Mom and I were safe.
I stayed beside his bed.
Not because I trusted him.
Because the DNA test had changed something I could not name.
He was my father.
Those words did not create love.
They created a thousand questions.
“Did you ever want children?” I asked.
Joseph looked at the ceiling.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you have any?”
“After Rose disappeared, I decided anyone close to me would become a target.”
“That didn’t protect me.”
“No.”
“Did you marry?”
“Once.”
Mom, standing near the window, looked surprised.
Joseph noticed.
“Her name was Claire. It lasted two years.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“She realized she had married a man who checked every door twice and trusted no one.”
“Was she right?”
“Yes.”
Mom turned away.
Joseph watched her.
“You have no right to be jealous.”
“I’m not.”
“You always touched your necklace when you lied.”
Mom’s hand dropped from her neck.
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Vincent entered with bad news.
Victor Moretti had released restaurant security footage showing Joseph’s men taking me through the kitchen.
News stations were reporting that I had been abducted by Joseph Salvini.
My name and photograph were everywhere.
The police had issued an alert.
Deputy Superintendent Kane offered to take me to a station and correct the story.
Vincent opposed it.
“Moretti controls officers inside the department.”
Kane glared at him.
“You keep saying that without naming one.”
“Maybe because the man is standing in front of me.”
Joseph raised one hand.
“Enough.”
He looked at Kane.
“Did you know Rose had my daughter?”
Kane hesitated.
“Yes.”
Joseph tried to rise.
Pain forced him back.
“You looked me in the face for twenty years.”
“Rose begged me to protect Audrey.”
“From me?”
“From all of us.”
Joseph turned toward my mother.
“You trusted him.”
“I trusted the badge.”
Kane’s expression tightened.
“That is not fair.”
“No?” Mom replied. “You promised to investigate Marco. Two witnesses disappeared.”
“I did what I could.”
“You became powerful while the truth stayed buried.”
The Seven Stars had not protected one another.
They had protected themselves.
Teresa entered carrying a box recovered from my apartment.
Moretti’s men had searched every room.
They tore open mattresses, emptied cabinets, and ripped up floorboards.
One object remained untouched.
My childhood music box.
It played the same four-note melody Mom used at the depot.
Mom took it with trembling hands.
“They didn’t know.”
“Know what?” I asked.
“The ledger isn’t paper.”
She removed the small metal cylinder that produced the music.
Inside was a memory card.
Joseph stared at it.
“You kept the evidence in Audrey’s bedroom?”
“It was the only place none of you knew existed.”
Vincent placed the card in an isolated computer.
Files appeared.
Payments.
Recorded conversations.
Photographs.
Lists of officials.
One folder was labeled OCTOBER 17.
Inside was the full video from the clinic where I was born.
Joseph appeared unconscious on a bed.
Marco stood in the hallway speaking to Victor Moretti.
“We tell Joseph the baby died,” Marco said.
“What about Rose?” Moretti asked.
“She disappears.”
“And the girl?”
Marco’s answer made everyone go silent.
“We keep her alive. Someday she may be useful.”
A second man entered the frame.
Deputy Superintendent David Kane.
He was much younger, but unmistakable.
Kane looked directly at Marco.
“No one touches the child.”
Marco smiled.
“Then you’d better make sure Joseph never learns she exists.”
The recording ended.
We turned.
May you like
Kane was gone.
So was the memory card.
