Chapter 5 - The Man Dante Trusted Most Was the One Opening the Door
Elias Grant arrived at the safe house at 7:05 p.m.
He walked through the door like he owned the place.
Perfect suit.
Silver cufflinks.
Calm expression.
He was the kind of man who looked more comfortable in courtrooms than crime scenes.
Dante greeted him with a handshake.
“Elias.”
“Dante.”
Then Elias looked at me.
“Ms. Voss.”
I said nothing.
He smiled.
“I heard you had been helping Dante with some unpleasant family business.”
“Did you?”
His smile tightened.
“We all help where we can.”
Dante watched him.
“You were at Lucent.”
“I was.”
“Why?”
“You invited me.”
Dante frowned.
“I didn't.”
Elias paused.
Then smiled.
“Your office did.”
The room went quiet.
I looked at Marco.
He subtly shook his head.
Dante sat down.
“Let's make this easy.”
He slid the ledger across the table.
Elias glanced at it.
Only once.
But that was enough.
Recognition.
Fear.
Then control.
“I see.”
“You recognize it?”
“Samuel kept strange records.”
“You knew my father.”
“Professionally.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Elias leaned back.
“I knew him.”
Dante tapped the ledger.
“Why are you in it?”
Elias laughed.
“Because Samuel documented everyone.”
“You're paid by Vale Maritime.”
“I had clients.”
“You received money from it.”
“Legal consulting.”
“Thirty-seven payments.”
Elias stopped smiling.
Dante stood.
“Thirty-seven.”
“Dante—”
“Why?”
Elias's eyes moved toward the window.
“Because your father asked me to.”
The words hit like a slap.
Dante stared.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect his assets.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does when you understand the trust.”
Elias stood.
“Your father knew Lucien would come back.”
Dante said nothing.
Elias continued.
“He created the trust so no one could seize the legitimate businesses without triggering a review.”
“So why does Lucien want my signature?”
“Because if you sign under coercion, the trust can be challenged.”
I looked at Elias.
“You came here to help us?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I did not believe him.
Dante didn't either.
“How did you know where we were?”
Elias paused.
Then said the sentence that killed whatever trust remained.
“Because I followed Marco.”
Marco raised his gun.
Elias took one step backward.
Dante held up his hand.
“Don't.”
Then Dante looked at Elias.
“Tell me the truth.”
“I am.”
“Again.”
Elias's face hardened.
“Your security chief has been compromised.”
Marco laughed once.
“That is convenient.”
Elias reached into his pocket.
Dante's weapon rose.
“Slowly.”
Elias removed a phone.
He placed it on the table.
There were photographs.
Marco meeting a man.
Marco entering a warehouse.
Marco exchanging a sealed envelope.
I stared.
“Marco.”
He didn't answer.
Dante looked furious.
“Explain.”
Marco sighed.
“I knew you'd eventually see these.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“Were you working for Lucien?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Marco looked at me.
“For Samuel.”
The room went silent.
“He recruited me after he realized Nicholas wasn't the mastermind.”
Dante stared.
“You were investigating my family behind my back?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Eight years.”
Dante looked wounded.
That surprised me.
Not angry.
Wounded.
Marco continued.
“I tried to tell you.”
“You didn't.”
“Your father ordered me not to.”
“My father was dead!”
“Yes.”
“And you still obeyed him?”
“Yes.”
Dante looked away.
Elias suddenly laughed.
“Very touching.”
I turned.
“You knew.”
He nodded.
“Of course.”
“About Marco?”
“About all of it.”
Then Elias pulled a USB drive from his pocket.
“This is what Lucien wants.”
Dante reached for it.
Elias held it back.
“Not yet.”
“What is it?”
“A recording.”
“Of what?”
“Your father.”
Dante's face changed.
Elias continued.
“Samuel recorded a meeting with Lucien the night before he died.”
I stepped closer.
“Play it.”
Elias inserted the drive into the computer.
The recording began.
My father's voice filled the room.
Lucien's voice followed.
“You can't keep the boy away from me forever.”
“He isn't yours.”
“He carries Matteo's blood.”
“He carries your blood too.”
Dante froze.
I looked at him.
Lucien spoke again.
“He will inherit what belongs to me.”
Samuel answered.
“You've already taken enough.”
A chair scraped.
Then Lucien said:
“You should have sold when I offered.”
My father's voice became quieter.
“Everybody sells eventually.”
Lucien laughed.
“Not you.”
A gunshot.
The recording ended.
I couldn't breathe.
Dante's face was pale.
“That was the night he died.”
Elias nodded.
“Yes.”
“Where did you get this?”
Elias looked at me.
“Your father sent it to me.”
“Why didn't you show it?”
“Because I needed proof that Lucien was alive.”
“Now you have it.”
Elias stared at Dante.
“Now we have something better.”
“What?”
“The name of the person who ordered the accident.”
He pressed another key.
A transcript appeared.
One line had been highlighted.
Lucien Marchetti authorized the removal of Samuel Voss.
Dante looked at Elias.
“Then why are you still alive?”
Elias smiled.
“Because Lucien thinks I'm loyal.”
I realized something.
“You're playing both sides.”
Elias nodded.
“So is Nicholas.”
Dante looked at him.
“Where is Nicholas?”
No answer.
Then every phone in the room rang simultaneously.
Mine.
Dante's.
Marco's.
Elias's.
Four identical messages.
MIDNIGHT. OLD PIER 9. COME ALONE.
Underneath was a photograph.
Nicholas Vale tied to a chair.
Blood on his shirt.
And standing behind him—
Lucien Marchetti.
Elias went pale.
Dante grabbed his coat.
“No.”
I caught his arm.
“Wait.”
He turned.
“Your note saved my life.”
“Yes.”
“I owe you.”
“You don't owe me anything.”
“I do.”
“Then don't go to him alone.”
Dante looked at me.
“You think I should bring you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you coming?”
“Because this started with my father.”
He studied me.
Then nodded.
“Fine.”
Marco raised his weapon.
“We're all going.”
Elias looked at the photograph.
“That's exactly what Lucien expects.”
Dante smiled without humor.
“Good.”
“What?”
“He made one mistake.”
“What?”
“He thinks we're scared.”
We left at 11:34 p.m.
At 11:59, we reached Pier 9.
The warehouse doors were open.
Inside, Nicholas sat bound to a chair.
Lucien stood behind him.
Older than the photograph.
Elegant.
Calm.
Almost grandfatherly.
Dante stepped forward.
“Uncle.”
Lucien smiled.
“Finally.”
Then he looked at me.
“You must be Alina.”
I raised my gun.
May you like
Lucien laughed.
“Your father would be proud.”
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