Chapter 9 - The Last Night of Victor Sloane's Empire
The woman Victor Sloane had kept hidden for fifteen years was named Laura Sloane.
She had once been a successful attorney.
She had also been Catherine Brooks's friend.
And she had witnessed the night Catherine died.
Rachel provided investigators with a location outside Chicago.
A secluded property registered to a shell company.
Police secured the property and found Laura alive.
She was frightened.
Physically frail.
But capable of giving a statement.
Her testimony changed everything.
Catherine's death had been arranged by Victor after she discovered his financial crimes.
Patrick Keane had coordinated the attack.
Victor had used threats against Laura and Rachel to prevent them from speaking.
And when Lorenzo Marchetti tried to expose him years later, Victor ordered the explosion that killed my father.
For two decades, Sloane had built his wealth on blackmail, violence, and stolen identities.
Now the evidence was finally coming together.
But Victor was still free.
And Dominic Russo was missing.
I spent the next forty-eight hours cooperating with investigators and refusing to leave Elena's hospital floor for longer than necessary.
She was improving.
Her doctors were cautiously optimistic.
The baby remained stable.
For the first time since the phone call, I began to believe both of them might come home.
Then Gabriel arrived with a message.
"Boss, Dominic wants to meet."
I looked up.
"Where?"
"An abandoned warehouse near the river."
I almost laughed.
"Of course he does."
Gabriel remained serious.
"He says Victor is there."
I looked toward Elena's room.
"What does Bennett know?"
"I forwarded everything."
"Good."
Gabriel hesitated.
"Dominic says if you don't come alone, he'll destroy the remaining records."
I stood.
For years, that threat would have worked.
I would have gathered armed men.
Driven to the warehouse.
And answered violence with violence.
But I had made Elena a promise.
And I intended to keep it.
"Tell Bennett," I said.
Gabriel nodded.
"Already done."
We waited while investigators verified the location and developed a plan.
I provided information about the building's entrances, the ownership records, and the security systems my father's company had installed years earlier.
The police made the decisions.
I did not lead an assault.
I did not order anyone killed.
I waited.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done.
At 11:46 P.M., Bennett called.
"We have Victor."
I closed my eyes.
"Alive?"
"Yes."
"Dominic?"
"In custody."
"Patrick Keane?"
"Also in custody."
I sat down.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Bennett continued.
"We recovered additional records. Rachel's recording helped establish the conspiracy."
I looked toward the hospital room.
Elena was awake, reading a book.
One hand rested on her stomach.
"Is it over?" I asked.
Bennett was quiet.
"The immediate threat appears contained. The investigation isn't over."
I understood.
There would be trials.
Hearings.
Testimony.
Consequences.
Some of them would reach me.
I had spent years benefiting from an organization that harmed people.
Changing my mind did not erase that history.
"I'll keep cooperating," I said.
"I know."
I ended the call.
Then I entered Elena's room.
She looked up.
"Nico?"
I sat beside her.
"They found Victor."
Her book slipped into her lap.
"Alive?"
"Yes."
"And Patrick?"
"Also arrested."
She closed her eyes.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then tears began sliding down her cheeks.
"It's really happening."
I took her hand.
"Your mother is finally going to get justice."
Elena began crying harder.
I held her.
She buried her face against my chest.
And for the first time, those tears were not caused by something I had done to hurt her.
They were the release of twenty years of grief.
Later, after she fell asleep, I returned to the waiting room.
Gabriel stood by the window.
"Boss."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"The attorneys called."
I nodded.
"I know."
He hesitated.
"There's going to be an investigation into your leadership."
"I expected that."
"You could lose the companies."
"Some of them."
"And the organization?"
I looked toward the dark city.
For most of my life, I had believed the Marchetti name was something sacred.
Something worth defending at any cost.
Now I understood it was simply a name.
What mattered was what I chose to do with it.
"The criminal organization ends," I said.
Gabriel stared.
"Nico—"
"No more illegal shipments. No more intimidation. No more protecting men because they wear our name."
He looked away.
"And the men?"
"Anyone who wants legitimate work can apply through the businesses that survive the review. Anyone who has committed crimes answers for them."
Gabriel was quiet.
Then he nodded.
"Understood."
I looked at him.
"You don't have to stay."
He gave a small smile.
"Someone has to make sure you don't do anything stupid."
I laughed for the first time in weeks.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Elena.
Where are you?
I typed back.
Outside. Everything okay?
Her reply appeared immediately.
Your daughter is making me hungry. Bring crackers.
I stared at the screen.
Your daughter.
I hurried back to her room.
Elena was smiling.
"Did you see?"
I nodded.
"Daughter?"
She placed my hand against her stomach.
"The ultrasound technician said it looks like a girl. They'll confirm when they can."
I stared at her.
"A girl."
Elena nodded.
I sat beside her.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I began crying.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
I cried like a man who had spent his entire life holding back everything that mattered.
Elena touched my face.
"Nico."
I shook my head.
"I'm sorry."
She smiled through her own tears.
"You keep saying that."
"I know."
"Then maybe start saying something else."
I looked at her.
"What?"
She took my hand.
"Tell me what kind of father you want to be."
I looked down at her stomach.
May you like
And for the first time in my life, the answer came easily.
"A better one than mine."
