Chapter 8 - THE HARBOR OF OLD LIES|
The harbor was nearly deserted at midnight.
Fog rolled across the water, swallowing the lights of the distant bridges. Cargo cranes stood like skeletons against the sky, and the smell of salt and diesel clung to the air.
Dante wanted Nora to remain in the car.
She refused.
“If this is about my family, I have a right to hear what they say.”
“If this is a trap, they may use you to get to me.”
“They already have.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he handed her a small earpiece.
“You stay beside me. If I tell you to run, you run.”
“And if I tell you that your plan is terrible?”
“Then I ignore you.”
“Excellent. We understand each other.”
They approached an abandoned warehouse where a single light burned above the loading entrance.
Marcus and two trusted guards remained out of sight. Aurelio had insisted on coming, but Dante had refused to risk his father's life.
Inside, a man stood beside a wooden table.
He was in his fifties, broad-shouldered, with a scar near his ear.
The same man from Nora's apartment.
“Salvatore?” Dante asked.
The man smiled.
“Your father has taught you to ask the wrong questions.”
Nora studied his face.
“You aren't Salvatore Vescari.”
The smile faded.
“You're a waitress.”
“And you're a terrible liar.”
Dante glanced at her.
The man laughed.
“Clever girl. My name is Paolo Greco. I worked for your family before you were born.”
“Where is Salvatore?” Dante demanded.
“Alive. For now.”
Greco opened a briefcase and removed the missing bracelet.
Nora took a step forward, but Dante held out an arm.
“You want something,” Dante said. “Name it.”
“The old ledger.”
“What ledger?”
Greco's expression sharpened.
“Don't insult me. Isabella took the original records from Sicily. The records that prove who financed the disappearances, who paid the port officials, and who ordered the murders.”
Nora stared at him.
“My grandmother never killed anyone.”
“I didn't say she did. But she kept the names.”
Greco placed the bracelet on the table.
“Bring me the ledger, and the old woman lives.”
Dante's voice turned cold.
“You threaten my family in my presence?”
Greco laughed.
“Your family? You don't even know who your family is.”
He looked at Nora.
“Ask your grandmother why your mother was given a false birth certificate. Ask her why she never told you that the woman who raised her was not her real mother.”
Nora's heart pounded.
“My mother was adopted.”
“Your mother was hidden.”
Greco slid a photograph across the table.
It showed a young Catherine Bellamy standing beside a woman in a dark coat.
The woman was Isabella.
On the back, a sentence had been written in Italian.
The child is the only witness who survived.
Nora stared at the photograph.
“My mother was a witness to what?”
Greco reached for the bracelet.
Before he could take it, the warehouse lights went out.
A gunshot cracked through the darkness.
Dante pulled Nora to the floor.
Someone screamed.
Then a voice came through the earpiece.
Marcus.
“Boss, we have a breach! The east entrance is compromised!”
A second voice followed, trembling with panic.
It was Aurelio.
“Dante, listen to me. Greco isn't the one you need to fear.”
A pause.
May you like
Then Aurelio whispered the name of the man who had ordered the entire operation.
“It's your own father.”
