Chapter 5 - The Father Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
I saw my father before Matteo did.
He stood in the doorway behind us, older than the man in my childhood photographs but unmistakably the same person.
The same eyes.
The same crooked smile.
Except there was no warmth in them.
“Dad?”
He raised the gun.
Matteo moved in front of me.
“Michael.”
My father looked at him.
“Conti.”
“You know me.”
“I knew your father.”
Matteo's jaw tightened.
“He wanted me dead.”
“He wanted you obedient.”
“That isn't better.”
My father looked at me.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he lowered the gun.
“Emily.”
I couldn't stop crying.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You left us.”
“I protected you.”
“You let me grow up thinking you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“How could you?”
He looked devastated.
“Because every person who knew I was alive became a target.”
“My mother knew.”
“She was stronger than I was.”
“She's been taken.”
“I know.”
“By whom?”
My father looked at Matteo.
“By the man who killed your father.”
Matteo froze.
“My father died eleven years ago.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“Your father was poisoned.”
Matteo's expression turned lethal.
“Who?”
“Daniel Voss.”
Leo entered the farmhouse.
He stopped when he saw my father.
“Jesus.”
“Not quite,” my father said.
Leo immediately drew his weapon.
Matteo lifted one hand.
“Stand down.”
My father gave a humorless smile.
“Still protecting strangers.”
Matteo didn't answer.
My father pointed toward the table.
“The ledger is here.”
I looked.
A black book lay beneath the chair.
“Who is the mastermind?”
My father didn't answer.
“Dad.”
He finally looked at me.
“You're going to hate the answer.”
“Tell me.”
He inhaled.
“Your mother.”
The room went silent.
I stared.
“No.”
“She made a deal.”
“With whom?”
“The people who wanted me dead.”
“Why?”
“To keep you alive.”
I shook my head.
“That doesn't sound like her.”
“She believed sacrifice was the only language powerful people respected.”
“What sacrifice?”
“Me.”
My stomach twisted.
“She told them I was dead.”
“And in exchange?”
“They left you alone.”
I couldn't breathe.
“But if she knew where you were, why didn't she tell me?”
“Because someone inside her own circle was watching her.”
“Who?”
My father looked at Matteo.
Matteo's face darkened.
“Say it.”
“Leo.”
Silence.
Leo looked stunned.
“What?”
My father continued.
“Your mother's closest ally inside Boston's criminal network was Leo Mercer.”
I looked at Leo.
He didn't move.
“That's impossible.”
Leo lowered his weapon.
“Mr. Carter is lying.”
My father laughed.
“You still lie badly.”
Matteo stepped between them.
“Leo.”
“I've served you for fifteen years.”
“And you expect me to ignore this?”
Leo shook his head.
“I didn't take Clara.”
My father moved toward him.
“No. You only helped them find her.”
Leo's face changed.
I saw something in his eyes.
Guilt.
Matteo saw it too.
“Leo.”
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
Leo lowered his head.
“I intercepted calls.”
My heart sank.
“You knew?”
“I knew someone was searching for Clara.”
“And you did nothing?”
“I thought I could control it.”
“You almost got Emily killed.”
“I didn't know they would shoot at the Velvet Room.”
Matteo's voice became deadly.
“Who are they?”
Leo finally looked up.
“The Voss organization isn't dead.”
I felt a chill.
“They've been rebuilding for years.”
My father nodded.
“And Daniel Voss is alive.”
“Where?”
Leo swallowed.
“In Boston.”
Suddenly a car engine sounded outside.
Everyone froze.
My father grabbed my hand.
“Down.”
Gunfire erupted.
Windows shattered.
Matteo tackled me to the floor.
Leo returned fire.
My father moved like a younger man.
He grabbed a rifle from beneath the table.
“Back door!” Matteo shouted.
We ran.
Bullets tore into the walls.
Outside, snow whipped through the trees.
We reached the SUV.
My father stopped.
“Emily.”
I turned.
He pulled something from his pocket.
A necklace.
A tiny silver key hung from it.
“Your mother wanted you to have this.”
“What does it open?”
“The final account.”
“What account?”
“The one that will destroy Voss.”
He put it in my hand.
Then the sound of a gunshot cracked through the snow.
My father fell.
“Dad!”
Matteo caught him.
Blood spread across his shirt.
“No.”
My father grabbed my wrist.
“Listen.”
His voice was fading.
“The person you trust most…”
He coughed.
“…will betray you before sunrise.”
His eyes closed.
I screamed.
Matteo pressed his hand to the wound.
“Stay with me.”
My father whispered one final word.
May you like
“Leo.”
Then he went still.
