Chapter 3 - The Brother Behind the Locked Door
Marco read the note twice.
ASK MARCO ABOUT LUCA.
Rachel watched every change in his face.
There were almost none.
That frightened her more than visible anger would have.
“What about Luca?” she asked.
Marco folded the note.
“Nothing.”
Rachel laughed bitterly.
“We’re not doing that again.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“Your brother’s name appeared on Archive Twelve records that he supposedly could not have accessed. Now someone sends me a note telling me to ask you about him.”
“I understand the facts.”
“Then answer the question.”
Marco looked at Ellen.
“Did Daniel ever mention Luca?”
“No.”
“Did he ever mention one of Antonio’s sons?”
Ellen hesitated.
Rachel caught it.
“Mom.”
“He said someone young helped him.”
Marco went motionless.
“How young?”
“I don’t know. Daniel said the person was taking an enormous risk.”
Rachel looked at Marco.
“Could it have been Luca?”
“No.”
“You answered too quickly.”
“Luca was a child.”
“He was sixteen.”
“That’s a child.”
“Old enough to understand what his father was doing.”
Marco looked away.
That was answer enough.
Rachel softened.
“You think it could have been him.”
“I think my brother spent his childhood trying to impress a father who rarely remembered his birthday. I do not think he helped an accountant betray him.”
“People surprise you.”
“Yes.”
Marco’s gaze returned to Rachel.
“They do.”
She understood the implication.
He had spent three years being surprised by her.
At midnight, Marco moved Ellen to a secure residence owned by Vale Meridian.
Ellen protested until Rachel threatened to stay beside her every minute.
That changed things.
“You have work,” Ellen said.
“I have a mother.”
“You also have a terrifying employer.”
Rachel looked toward Marco.
“He’s not terrifying.”
Nico coughed.
Marco raised an eyebrow.
Rachel corrected herself.
“He is occasionally terrifying.”
“Thank you.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“I accepted it anyway.”
For one brief moment, Ellen smiled.
Then fear returned.
They left her with four guards.
Rachel expected Marco to take her home next.
Instead, the convoy headed north.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“That phrase means very little when you say it.”
“My house.”
Rachel turned.
“Absolutely not.”
“You prefer a hotel where a desk clerk can see your room number?”
“My apartment.”
“Has one entrance, street-level windows, and a fire escape someone could reach from the alley.”
“You’ve investigated that too?”
“I’ve picked you up there.”
“Once.”
“I have eyes.”
“Debatable.”
Nico hid another smile.
Marco’s house sat behind iron gates in Lincoln Park.
Rachel had expected something ostentatious.
It was not.
Large, yes.
Beautiful, certainly.
But quiet.
Old brick.
Dark windows.
Trees sheltering the front drive.
Inside, polished wood replaced marble. Framed black-and-white photographs lined one wall.
A younger Marco.
Luca laughing beside him.
Their mother.
Antonio Vale appeared in only two pictures.
Rachel noticed.
Marco noticed her noticing.
“You can use the guest room.”
“Do you always kidnap employees this politely?”
“If I kidnapped you, you wouldn’t have your phone.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“I wasn’t trying to reassure you.”
They stood in the library.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
Nico had left to coordinate security.
For the first time since nine seventeen, Rachel and Marco were alone.
She should have felt unsafe.
Instead, exhaustion settled over her.
Marco removed his jacket.
The movement revealed an old scar near his ribs where his shirt pulled slightly.
Rachel had seen hints of it before.
Never the full line.
He caught her looking.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“You say that almost as badly as you say you’re fine.”
She sank into a leather chair.
“Can we stop using my emotional dysfunction against me?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sure.”
Silence.
Then Rachel asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about my father?”
Marco sat opposite her.
“Because I had no proof he was alive after that photograph.”
“That does not answer the question.”
“No.”
He looked at the fire.
“When you applied, I recognized your surname. I had Nico investigate you. He found no connection beyond Daniel.”
“Then why hire me?”
“Because during the interview, you corrected my chief legal officer.”
Rachel blinked.
“He was wrong.”
“He was.”
“He hated me for six months.”
“He still dislikes you.”
“That makes me feel better.”
Marco’s faint smile vanished.
“I planned to tell you if I found anything certain.”
“For three years?”
“I found nothing.”
“You could have told me what you knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He was silent for so long Rachel thought he would refuse.
Then he said, “Because you were happy.”
Rachel stared.
“I was not happy. My mother had cancer.”
“You were building something.”
He leaned forward.
“You had a job you were proud of. Your mother was improving. You had stopped looking over your shoulder every time someone mentioned your father.”
“You noticed that?”
“I notice everything about you.”
The sentence entered the room and changed it.
Rachel’s breath caught.
Marco looked away first.
That somehow made it worse.
Or better.
She could not decide.
“Marco.”
“Get some sleep.”
“No.”
“That was not—”
“I know. Not a request.”
She stood.
“I want to see Archive Twelve.”
His expression hardened.
“No.”
“Someone is threatening my mother because of it.”
“Which is exactly why you’re staying away.”
“They think I can open it.”
“You probably can.”
Rachel froze.
“What?”
Marco exhaled.
“The access system was built around biometric authorization paired with an encrypted token.”
“The brass key?”
“Possibly.”
“You think my father left me access.”
“I think whoever sent that key believes he did.”
“Then we should find out.”
“No.”
Rachel stepped closer.
“You do realize every time you say no, I become more determined.”
“I have noticed.”
“You cannot protect me by keeping me ignorant.”
“I can keep you alive by keeping you behind steel gates.”
“For how long?”
Marco did not answer.
Rachel’s voice softened.
“If these people know where my mother shops, where I work, what archive my father used seventeen years ago, they aren’t going away.”
Marco knew she was right.
That was obvious.
He hated it.
That was even more obvious.
“Tomorrow,” he finally said.
Rachel nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
“At six.”
“Fine.”
Marco stared.
She sighed.
“Acceptable.”
“Better.”
She turned toward the hallway.
“Rachel.”
She looked back.
His expression had changed.
“Your father did not abandon you.”
The words hit her unexpectedly.
She swallowed.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know enough.”
“Apparently that’s your favorite phrase tonight.”
“He risked his life to keep people away from you.”
Rachel’s eyes burned.
“Then why didn’t he come back?”
Marco had no answer.
That question followed her into the guest room.
She lay awake until nearly three.
At three fourteen, she heard voices downstairs.
Male.
Low.
One belonged to Marco.
The other—
Rachel sat up.
She knew that voice.
Luca.
She stepped into the hallway.
The library door stood half-open.
“You should have told me,” Marco was saying.
“I just got into Chicago.”
“You altered Archive Twelve records.”
Silence.
Rachel stopped.
Luca answered.
“I did.”
Her heart jumped.
Marco’s voice turned dangerous.
“Why?”
“Because our father lied to us.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“I was trying to find Daniel Calloway.”
Rachel pushed open the door.
Both men turned.
Luca Vale looked almost the same as she remembered.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Younger than Marco by six years.
His expensive suit looked effortless where Marco’s always looked like armor.
“Rachel,” Luca said.
She held his gaze.
“Why were you looking for my father?”
Luca glanced at Marco.
“No more secrets,” Rachel said.
Marco nodded.
Luca poured whiskey.
“When I was sixteen, I overheard my father ordering Vincent Rusk to kill a man.”
Rachel went cold.
“Daniel?”
“I didn’t know his name then.”
Marco stared at his brother.
“You never told me.”
“You were twenty-two and doing everything possible to prove you deserved Dad’s approval.”
Marco flinched almost invisibly.
Luca continued.
“I followed Rusk.”
“You followed one of Father’s enforcers at sixteen?” Marco asked.
“I was stupid.”
“You’re still stupid.”
“Thank you.”
“Continue.”
Luca looked at Rachel.
“Rusk drove to a motel outside Joliet. Daniel was there.”
Rachel’s hands tightened.
“What happened?”
“I warned him.”
Ellen had been right.
The young person.
Rachel stepped closer.
“You helped him escape.”
“For a while.”
“What does that mean?”
“Rusk found him again two years later.”
“The photograph.”
Luca nodded.
“Daniel came back because he believed he had enough evidence to destroy my father.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“He discovered something inside Archive Twelve.”
“What?”
Luca looked at Marco.
“That our father wasn’t acting alone.”
Marco’s expression darkened.
“Who?”
“I never found the complete file.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because Daniel called me.”
Rachel could barely breathe.
“When?”
“The night he disappeared for good.”
“What did he say?”
Luca swallowed.
“He said there was a second ledger. A red one. He said it contained every payment, every name, every politician, every judge, every police officer, every company.”
Marco said quietly, “The city would burn.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the ledger?”
“I don’t know.”
Rachel remembered the message.
BRING US ACCESS TO ARCHIVE 12.
“They think it’s still there.”
Luca nodded.
“Probably.”
Rachel stepped closer.
“My father. What happened after the call?”
Luca did not answer.
Her stomach dropped.
“You know.”
“I know what I saw.”
“Tell me.”
Luca’s eyes held regret.
“I went to meet him.”
Marco’s voice sharpened.
“Where?”
“Warehouse Fourteen.”
The Halsted warehouse.
The one that had burned.
Rachel felt cold.
“Dad was there the night of the fire?”
“Yes.”
“You said the fire happened earlier.”
Marco looked at her.
“The fire that killed the three employees happened seventeen years ago.”
Luca shook his head.
“There was another fire two years later.”
Marco stared.
“What?”
“A smaller one. Suppressed in the records.”
Luca looked at Rachel.
“Your father was inside.”
Her knees weakened.
“No.”
“I saw flames.”
“No.”
“I tried to reach him.”
“You said you helped him.”
“I tried.”
“Was he killed?”
Luca’s face twisted.
“I don’t know.”
Rachel’s anger exploded.
“You don’t know?”
“I never found a body.”
“Did you look?”
“For years.”
“Not hard enough.”
Marco stepped between them.
Rachel pushed at his chest.
“Move.”
“Rachel.”
“Move!”
He did.
Immediately.
She turned back to Luca.
“Did Vincent Rusk start the fire?”
“I believed so.”
“Believed?”
Luca looked at Marco.
“Until last year.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed.
“What happened last year?”
“I found surveillance footage.”
“From seventeen years ago?”
“It had been hidden.”
“Where?”
“In a private archive registered to Dad’s attorney.”
Luca took out his phone.
He opened a video file.
Grainy footage filled the screen.
A warehouse.
Rain.
Daniel Calloway entering through a side door.
Then another figure.
Rachel leaned closer.
The man’s face appeared briefly beneath a security light.
Marco stopped breathing.
Luca whispered, “That’s why I came back.”
Rachel looked at Marco.
He had gone white.
“Who is it?”
Marco stared at the screen.
“My uncle.”
“Your uncle?”
“Salvatore Vale.”
Rachel had heard the name.
Antonio’s younger brother.
Dead for fifteen years.
Or so everyone believed.
Marco looked at Luca.
“Salvatore died in Sicily.”
Luca shook his head.
“No.”
A new voice came from the library doorway.
“No, he didn’t.”
Nico stood there.
Behind him were two security officers.
And between them—
An elderly man with silver hair.
Rachel had never seen him before.
Marco had.
Every muscle in his body locked.
The man smiled.
“Hello, nephew.”
May you like
Salvatore Vale was alive.
---
Related Stories
