Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO SENT THE PHOTOGRAPH
Z
I expected a warehouse.
Instead I woke inside an elegant library.
Leather chairs.
Walnut shelves.
A fire burning beneath an antique marble fireplace.
Salvatore sat across from me holding a glass of whiskey like we were discussing family business after dinner.
My wrists were tied.
My ankles were free.
That told me he expected intimidation to be enough.
Good.
Men like Salvatore were most dangerous when they underestimated you.
“Where am I?”
“Somewhere Adrien won’t find quickly.”
“Then why am I still alive?”
He smiled.
“You always were sharper than he realized.”
“No. Adrien knows exactly how sharp I am.”
That annoyed him.
Interesting.
Salvatore leaned back.
“Your husband’s greatest weakness has always been sentiment.”
“You raised him.”
“I tried to remove it.”
My stomach turned.
“You sent the photograph.”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
“You hacked my medical records.”
“Not personally.”
“You ordered men to shoot at me.”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I stared at him.
“Convenient.”
“The men in Kingston panicked.”
“They fired through windows.”
“And they paid for their mistake.”
I didn’t ask what that meant.
“Why?”
Salvatore looked toward the fire.
“Adrien’s father understood what the Moretti family was.”
“A criminal organization.”
“An institution.”
He seemed offended by my wording.
“An institution built by men willing to do what softer men would not.”
“And Adrien?”
“Adrien began changing.”
“Because of me?”
“Because of you, because of age, because he became convinced legitimate business could replace fear.”
Salvatore took a drink.
“He sold routes. Closed profitable operations. Refused partnerships his father would have accepted.”
“Human trafficking.”
His expression hardened.
“That was one.”
“Adrien refused to make money selling women and children. How terrible.”
“Do not reduce this to morality.”
“That usually means morality is exactly what the conversation is about.”
His eyes chilled.
“You made him weak.”
“No.”
I leaned forward as far as the ropes allowed.
“I reminded him he had choices.”
Salvatore smiled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The arrogance.”
He stood.
“You think you changed him.”
“No. I think he changed himself.”
Salvatore walked to the window.
“Then came the pregnancy.”
My hands instinctively protected my stomach as much as the ropes allowed.
He noticed.
“An heir means permanence. Adrien would spend the next twenty years dismantling everything his father built to create a clean kingdom for that child.”
“So this is about money.”
“It is about survival.”
“It’s always money when rich men say survival.”
His jaw tightened.
Good.
Keep him talking.
The small pendant around my neck looked like part of the necklace from family dinner.
It wasn’t.
Vanessa had replaced the center stone with a transmitter after Salvatore threatened me.
Adrien knew where I was.
Or soon would.
I needed time.
“What happened to Adrien’s father?”
Salvatore turned.
That was a gamble.
Vanessa suspected old financial irregularities surrounding Antonio Moretti’s death, but nobody had evidence.
Salvatore stared at me too long.
“He died.”
“In a car accident.”
“Yes.”
“After announcing he wanted Adrien to move most of the family business into legitimate shipping.”
Salvatore’s face changed slightly.
There it was.
I continued.
“Did he become weak too?”
“You should be very careful.”
“Did you kill him?”
Silence.
My heart hammered.
Then Salvatore smiled.
“Antonio was my closest friend.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“He made a decision that would have destroyed everything.”
I stopped breathing.
Salvatore approached me.
“Sometimes leadership requires preventing one man’s weakness from becoming everyone’s disaster.”
There it was.
A confession without the word confession.
“You killed him.”
“I corrected his mistake.”
My blood went cold.
Adrien had spent eleven years blaming himself for his father’s death because he had been supposed to ride with Antonio that night and canceled at the last minute.
Salvatore had comforted him at the funeral.
Stood behind him while the coffin lowered.
Helped Adrien avenge a death Salvatore himself caused.
“You’re a monster.”
“No.”
He crouched in front of me.
“I am the man who kept this family alive.”
A phone vibrated on the desk.
Salvatore checked it.
His expression changed.
“What?”
A second vibration.
Then another.
He crossed quickly toward the window.
Outside, somewhere beyond the curtains, tires screeched.
My pulse jumped.
Salvatore turned toward me.
“You.”
I smiled for the first time.
“What about me?”
“You’re wearing a transmitter.”
He lunged.
I kicked the table into his legs.
The whiskey glass shattered.
Salvatore grabbed my necklace and ripped it away.
Too late.
The library doors exploded inward.
Adrien entered.
I had seen violence in my husband before.
Never like this.
He crossed the room before Salvatore could reach his gun.
Luca and two men followed.
Adrien struck Salvatore hard enough to send him against the desk.
Then again.
“Adrien!”
He didn’t hear me.
Salvatore laughed through blood.
“Your wife made you soft.”
Adrien grabbed him by the collar.
“You murdered my father.”
Salvatore’s smile vanished.
“You heard that?”
“Every word.”
Adrien drew his gun.
The room froze.
Salvatore looked almost relieved.
This was the ending he understood.
Blood answered with blood.
A son avenged his father.
A mafia boss proved he was still a mafia boss.
“Do it,” Salvatore whispered.
Adrien raised the weapon.
“No.”
My voice stopped him.
He looked at me.
I shook my head.
“Don’t give him what he wants.”
“Elena.”
“Our child doesn’t need a father starting another war.”
Salvatore laughed.
“She controls you.”
Adrien looked at him.
Then at me.
Slowly, he lowered the gun.
“No,” Adrien said.
Salvatore’s smile returned.
Adrien continued.
“She reminds me I have a choice.”
He handed the gun to Luca.
Vanessa entered carrying a laptop.
Behind her came two federal investigators.
Salvatore’s face finally changed.
Fear.
Vanessa smiled.
“Every shell account, every transfer, every payment to the Kingston shooters and eleven years of financial records.”
Adrien stared at his godfather.
“You wanted the old empire.”
Salvatore looked at him with hatred.
Adrien stepped closer.
“You can have its funeral.”
The investigators took Salvatore away.
Adrien did not watch.
He came directly to me and cut the ropes from my wrists.
His hands trembled.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“The baby?”
“I think we’re okay.”
Adrien closed his eyes.
Then his forehead rested against mine.
Not a kiss.
Not ownership.
Relief.
“I thought I lost you.”
I swallowed.
“You almost did.”
His eyes opened.
He knew I didn’t mean tonight.
That hurt more.
“I know.”
For the first time, we stood in the ruins of everything hidden between us.
Salvatore’s betrayal.
His father’s murder.
My fear.
Adrien’s secrecy.
The child between us.
And instead of promising everything would magically become perfect, Adrien said the only thing I needed him to say.
“Tell me what happens next.”
May you like
I looked at him.
“For once,” he added quietly, “you decide.”
