Chapter 6 - The Trap at Pier Seventeen
The warehouse at Pier Seventeen had been abandoned for nine years.
We spent most of the day preparing it. Dante's men installed cameras in broken light fixtures, microphones beneath steel beams, and pressure sensors along the loading entrances. I watched from an office while Nico marked positions on an old shipping map.
Before sunset, Dante handed me a thin protective vest.
"Put it on."
I held it up. "This weighs more than my winter coat."
"It also stops bullets better than your winter coat."
"A feature clothing companies should advertise more."
He did not smile.
I went into the office and pulled the vest beneath my sweater. When I returned, Dante adjusted one strap at my side, careful not to touch more than necessary.
"If we get separated, say the word Northstar into any radio. My people will prioritize getting you out."
"What about you?"
"They already know what to do with me."
"That is not an answer."
He looked at me. "If it comes down to choosing between me and you, they take you."
I stepped back. "Absolutely not."
"Olivia -"
"No. You do not get to turn yourself into some noble sacrifice because it sounds romantic. We both walk out. That is the plan."
His eyes softened despite the situation. "You really hate being protected."
"I hate being erased from decisions that affect my life. There is a difference."
He nodded slowly. "Then if we are separated, Northstar means everyone regroups at the south exit. Nobody gets abandoned."
"Better."
"You negotiate hostage-rescue protocols now?"
"I contain multitudes."
That earned the faintest smile.
A few minutes later, Orion walked over and sniffed the vest. He sneezed dramatically.
"Even the dog hates it," I said.
Dante scratched behind Orion's ears. "The dog has terrible judgment."
Orion immediately moved to my side.
"Your argument is collapsing in real time."
He looked exhausted.
"Your brother," I said quietly. "What is his name?"
Nico hesitated. "Evan."
"How old?"
"Thirty-two. Two kids. He teaches high school history. Has nothing to do with any of this."
The bitterness in his voice made me understand why Victor had chosen him. Not because Nico was weak. Because he loved someone innocent.
"We will get him back," I said.
Nico looked at me. "You cannot promise that."
"No. But I can promise Victor wants you to believe betrayal is the only way. It is not."
Dante entered behind me. "Olivia is right."
Nico looked surprised.
Dante rarely admitted anyone was right unless forced by overwhelming evidence.
"After tonight," Dante continued, "we find Evan whether Victor comes here or not."
Nico swallowed hard. "Why? After what I did?"
Dante's expression remained severe. "Because your brother did not do it."
That was the first moment I saw the man my father had believed Dante could become. Not soft. Not harmless. Just capable of separating justice from anger.
Later, while the others finished preparations, Dante took me to the roof. Manhattan glowed across the water.
"You can still leave," he said.
"So can you."
"This is my war."
"Victor entered my apartment, killed my father, threatened my mother, and shot at me. I think he filed the paperwork to include me."
Dante looked toward the skyline. "I do not know how to do this with someone I care about standing in the line of fire."
The sentence hung between us.
Someone I care about.
He seemed to realize what he had said at the same moment I did.
I could have teased him. Instead I said, "Then do not decide for me. Stand beside me."
He nodded once.
That was the agreement we carried downstairs.
That was Dante's idea.
The fake ledger was mine.
The bright red cover had cost fourteen dollars at an office-supply store.
"I still cannot believe this is your plan," Dante muttered as he checked the hidden microphone beneath my coat collar.
"Our plan."
"I voted against it."
"You own the warehouse. Your vote counts extra."
"It should count enough to cancel yours."
We stood inside a dark office overlooking the loading floor.
Rain hammered the windows.
Below us, two of Dante's men waited in visible positions. Another eight were hidden throughout the building. Nico sat inside a parked van with Dante's security chief monitoring the transmitter.
Orion wore a protective vest.
I hated that more than anything.
Seeing armor on a dog made the danger real in a way the guns had not.
Dante noticed me looking.
"He stays with me."
"He will stay with whoever he wants."
Orion moved beside me.
Dante closed his eyes briefly.
"Of course."
I almost smiled.
Then he took my hand.
His voice lowered.
"If anything changes, you leave. No arguing."
"Dante -"
"Promise me."
I thought of my father's command.
Paw means promise.
I squeezed his hand.
"I promise to leave if you tell me the plan has failed."
"That is suspiciously specific."
"Best offer."
He wanted to argue.
Instead he touched his forehead briefly to mine.
The contact lasted one second.
Maybe two.
It felt more intimate than a kiss.
"Stay alive," he whispered.
"You too."
At eleven fourteen, Victor arrived.
Not alone.
Six vehicles entered the warehouse yard.
Too many.
Dante's expression changed as voices came through the radio.
"We expected three cars," Marco said.
"Victor brought twenty men."
Dante swore quietly.
"Abort."
I grabbed the fake ledger.
"We can still -"
"No. Plan failed. You promised."
I hated him for remembering my exact words.
Then gunfire erupted outside.
The lights died.
Victor had not come for a negotiation.
He had come for a massacre.
Dante pushed me toward the rear stairwell.
"Marco, get her out."
"No!"
"Olivia."
The look in his eyes stopped me.
Not command.
Please.
I ran.
Orion came with me.
Marco led us down the stairwell as shots tore through the warehouse below.
We reached the first floor.
A metal door opened thirty feet ahead.
Two armed men entered.
Marco fired.
I dropped behind a forklift.
Orion snarled beside me.
One attacker fell. The other retreated.
"Move!" Marco shouted.
We ran toward the rear loading dock.
A van waited outside.
Then Orion stopped.
He turned back toward the warehouse.
"Orion!"
A sound came through the radio clipped to Marco's shoulder.
Dante's voice.
"Second floor compromised."
Then static.
Orion bolted.
"No!"
I went after him.
Marco caught my arm.
"Miss Marshall!"
"He is going to Dante!"
"Mr. Moretti told me to get you out!"
An explosion shook the building.
The rear door slammed shut behind falling debris.
Our escape route vanished.
Marco swore.
"Now we go inside."
Smoke filled the loading floor.
Sprinklers rained from the ceiling.
I followed Orion through rows of old shipping containers.
At the central aisle, we found Nico.
He was bleeding from his shoulder.
"Victor knows," he gasped.
"Knows what?"
"Everything. Somebody else told him. He knew it was a trap before he came."
Dante had another traitor.
Before I could ask who, Victor's voice boomed over the warehouse speakers.
"Dante! Bring me the real ledger and the girl walks out."
My blood turned cold.
Marco looked at me.
"He thinks we have you."
Then a gun pressed against the back of my head.
"We do now," a familiar voice said.
I froze.
Marco slowly raised his hands.
The man behind me stepped into view.
Dante's gray-haired adviser.
Marco DeLuca.
No.
Not Marco.
The other Marco.
The man holding the weapon was Samuel Moretti, Dante's uncle, who had arrived at the mansion that afternoon and spent an hour telling stories about Dante as a boy.
I had liked him.
That was Victor's greatest weapon.
Trust.
Samuel smiled sadly.
"I told Victor she was here."
Marco's face twisted with disbelief.
"You?"
"Family survives by choosing the winning side."
Orion lunged.
Samuel fired.
The sound destroyed everything.
Orion yelped and fell.
I screamed.
The bullet had struck his vest, but he hit the concrete hard.
Something inside me snapped.
I drove my elbow backward into Samuel's chest.
He stumbled.
Marco tackled him.
I dropped beside Orion.
"Buddy. Orion. Look at me."
His eyes opened.
He was breathing.
"Good boy. Stay with me."
Gunfire erupted above.
Then Dante appeared through the smoke.
He saw Orion on the floor.
Saw me kneeling beside him.
Saw Samuel struggling under Marco.
His face became something I never wanted directed at me.
"Uncle."
Samuel stopped fighting.
Dante walked toward him.
"You sold my parents to Victor too?"
Samuel looked away.
That was answer enough.
Dante raised his weapon.
I stood.
"Dante."
He did not hear me.
"Dante!"
His eyes found mine.
I shook my head.
"Do not become Victor."
His father's murderer lay at his feet.
His mother's betrayer.
His own blood.
For a terrifying moment, I thought grief would win.
Then Dante lowered the gun.
"Tie him up."
Marco obeyed.
Dante dropped beside Orion.
His hands trembled as he checked the dog's vest.
"Impact only," I said. "I think."
Orion licked Dante's wrist.
Dante closed his eyes.
Then Victor's voice came over the speakers again.
"Touching."
Dante looked up.
"He has cameras," I whispered.
Victor continued.
"Bring me the real ledger, godson. Or next time I aim where the armor isn't."
Dante's radio crackled.
Nico's voice came through.
"We traced the speaker signal. Victor is not in the warehouse. He is transmitting from another location."
"Where?"
Static.
Then Nico answered.
"Your house."
Dante went completely still.
Victor had never intended to be trapped.
While we were at the warehouse, he had gone to the mansion.
To the evidence copies.
To the servers.
To the cassette.
I looked at Dante.
"We have to go."
He was already standing.
Then my phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared from an unknown number.
Dante's library was on fire.
Below it was a message.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE DEAD BURIED.
A second photograph arrived.
Father Michael sat tied to a chair inside the mansion.
May you like
Victor stood behind him.
And in his hand was the original cassette.
