Chapter 4 - The Brother Who Lied
Dominic Moretti arrived forty-three minutes later.
I knew it was him before Vincent opened the door.
Same dark hair. Same gray eyes. Same controlled posture that made both brothers look as though they had been taught from childhood never to reveal fear in public.
But Dominic was younger, rougher around the edges, and visibly furious.
Marco stood behind him.
That made every muscle in my body tighten.
Vincent noticed.
"Marco stays in the hall," he said.
Marco's eyes narrowed.
"Boss-"
"Hall."
The door closed between us.
Dominic looked at me first.
His gaze moved to the bruise under my jaw, then the way I was still protecting my ribs.
Something changed in his face.
"I didn't send them."
"You keep saying that," I replied.
"Because it's true."
"You also said you barely knew David."
Dominic looked at Vincent.
"Can we do this without an audience?"
"No," Vincent said.
"She's the reason we're in this mess."
Vincent's expression became dangerous.
"Choose your next sentence carefully."
Dominic exhaled.
"That's not what I meant."
"It sounded exactly like what you meant," I said.
He looked back at me.
"You're right. I'm sorry."
That apology did not erase anything, but I filed it away.
Vincent pointed toward the dining table.
"Sit. Talk."
Dominic sat across from me.
For the first time since meeting Vincent, I understood why people said the Moretti brothers were dangerous in different ways. Vincent's anger went quiet. Dominic's looked like it was always one bad decision away from becoming motion.
"Elliot Dane came to me about eighteen months ago," Dominic began. "He said he wanted work. He was good with numbers and better at finding weak spots in accounts. I knew he had worked for Sebastian Vale. That made him useful."
"Useful enough to trust?" I asked.
"No. Useful enough to watch."
"And while you were watching him, he moved into my apartment."
Dominic looked down.
"I didn't know."
"You didn't bother to know."
He accepted that without argument.
Vincent leaned against the kitchen counter.
"What did he steal?"
"Four point eight million dollars."
I stared at Dominic.
"From you?"
"No. From Vale."
"Then why did he come to you for protection?"
"Because he thought I hated Vale more than I distrusted him."
"Did you?"
Dominic gave a humorless smile.
"For about ten minutes."
He reached inside his coat slowly and placed a phone on the table.
"This is the last message he sent me. Four months ago."
Vincent picked it up.
A voice recording played.
David's voice.
No - Elliot's voice.
I still did not know what to call him.
"Dom, I found the old ledger. Not the copy. The original transfer trail. Vale didn't just take your father's money. He paid someone in the family circle before the bombing. I'm not saying who until I have something that can't be denied. If I disappear, don't trust the obvious story."
The recording ended.
Vincent's face was carved from stone.
"You never told me."
Dominic rubbed a hand over his jaw.
"Because every time Vale's name comes up, you stop thinking like my brother and start thinking like Dad's successor."
"Our father was murdered."
"I know. I was at the funeral too."
The words hung between them.
I looked away.
This was not my grief, but I had somehow landed in the middle of it.
Dominic continued.
"I told Elliot I wouldn't protect him unless he gave me the ledger. He refused. Said he needed insurance. Two weeks later, he vanished from every place I knew him."
"And you did nothing?" I asked.
"I looked."
"Not very hard."
His eyes flashed.
"You think I don't know that?"
I held his gaze.
"I think you knew a dangerous man was hiding in somebody's life and decided that somebody didn't matter because you didn't know her name."
Dominic went silent.
Vincent's eyes moved to me.
Not pity.
Respect.
It gave me enough courage to continue.
"You don't get to make me the cost of your family war and then act surprised that I'm angry."
Dominic sat back.
"You're right."
I had expected a fight.
The simple agreement took the air out of mine.
"I should have found out who he was living with," he said. "I should have warned you. I didn't. That's on me."
For the first time, I believed he regretted it.
Vincent folded his arms.
"The payment on the drive. Eighty-five thousand to D. Moretti."
Dominic frowned.
"Payment for what?"
Priya turned the laptop toward him.
He studied the transfer.
Then laughed once.
"That's real."
Vincent's eyes hardened.
"Explain."
"Vale paid me."
"For what?"
"Nothing."
Vincent pushed away from the counter.
Dominic raised both hands.
"Listen. Seventeen months ago, Vale wanted everyone to believe I'd switched sides. He sent money into one of my accounts through three shells. I reported it to you."
Vincent froze.
"You reported a forty-two-thousand-dollar transfer."
"Half. The bank froze the second piece before it landed."
Priya checked the chain.
"That matches what I'm seeing. The eighty-five thousand split before final settlement."
Dominic nodded.
"Somebody recombined the entries to make it look like I took the whole payment."
"Who had access to the report?" I asked.
The brothers looked at each other.
Vincent answered.
"Me. Dominic. Our attorney. Marco."
The room felt colder.
"Your attorney?" I asked.
"Elias Grant. He's been with us six years."
"And Marco for eleven."
Vincent nodded.
"Anyone else?"
"No."
Three suspects if Vincent and Dominic were telling the truth.
I looked toward the hall.
"Marco recognized David."
Dominic's gaze snapped to me.
"He what?"
"At the bar. Vincent showed him the picture. Marco said he'd seen David at a private game in Red Hook."
Dominic swore.
"What?"
"I never took Elliot to Red Hook. Vale did. Years ago."
Vincent looked toward the door.
"Marco could have seen him independently."
"Sure," Dominic said. "Or he knew exactly who Elliot was and pretended he didn't."
Vincent's face remained unreadable.
I understood then that suspicion was different when it wore the face of someone you loved.
"There has to be another way to check," I said.
Priya nodded toward the flash drive.
"There may be. I'm still recovering deleted media."
As if summoned by the sentence, her program chimed.
A folder appeared.
PHOTOS_RECOVERED.
There were thirty-one images.
Most showed documents photographed quickly in bad light.
One showed the back of a man entering a parking garage.
Another showed David sitting in his car across from a restaurant.
Then I stopped on image twenty-six.
It had been taken through a partially open door.
Two men stood in what looked like an office.
One was David.
The other was mostly out of frame.
Only his right hand and part of his coat were visible.
On the hand was a black stone ring set in silver.
I felt a strange flicker of memory.
"I've seen that ring."
Vincent leaned closer.
"Where?"
I looked toward the hallway.
"Marco wears one."
Dominic stood immediately.
Vincent lifted a hand.
"Sit down."
"Vincent-"
"Sit."
Dominic obeyed.
Vincent opened the door.
Marco stood ten feet away speaking quietly into his phone.
He ended the call.
"Everything okay?"
Vincent's eyes dropped to Marco's right hand.
No ring.
There was, however, a pale band around his finger where one had recently been.
My heart began pounding.
Marco noticed the direction of Vincent's gaze.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then Marco smiled.
"I lost it last week."
Vincent said nothing.
"You want to search me?" Marco asked.
"Yes."
The smile disappeared.
Marco opened his coat.
No weapon beyond the one Vincent already knew he carried. No phone except the one in his hand.
Vincent took that too.
"Unlock it."
Marco stared at him.
"Eleven years."
"Unlock it."
"I took a bullet for you in Newark."
"And I carried you into the hospital. Unlock the phone."
Marco did.
There was nothing obvious.
No messages from Vale. No secret photos. No suspicious contacts.
Dominic came into the hall.
"Convenient."
Marco turned on him.
"You want to talk about convenient? Your name is on Vale's money trail."
"It was planted."
"Of course it was."
Vincent stepped between them.
"Enough."
My new phone rang.
Everyone stopped.
Vincent had given me a temporary device that morning. Only three people had the number: Vincent, Priya, and Doctor Ruiz.
Unknown caller.
My hands went cold.
I answered.
"Hello?"
For two seconds, there was only breathing.
Then David said my name.
"Rowan."
Every sound in the hallway vanished.
I gripped the phone.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"You stole my money."
"I know."
"You stole my car."
"I know."
"Men came to my apartment and beat me because of you."
His voice cracked.
"I know."
"My apartment burned."
Silence.
"David?"
"That wasn't supposed to happen."
I almost threw the phone.
"Nothing was supposed to happen, apparently. Yet here I am."
"Listen to me. Is Vincent with you?"
I looked at him.
"Yes."
"And Marco Bellini?"
Marco's face changed.
"Yes."
David inhaled sharply.
"Get away from Marco. Right now."
"Why?"
"Because he knows your new number."
My blood went cold.
"What?"
"The number you're using. It was sent to a Vale contact seventeen minutes ago from an encrypted relay. I intercepted it. Rowan, Marco is the leak."
Marco moved.
Vincent moved faster.
He shoved me behind him as Dominic stepped into Marco's path.
Marco raised both hands.
"This is insane."
David's voice came through the phone again.
"He burned your apartment."
May you like
Marco stared at me.
And for the first time since I met him, I saw fear.
