Chapter 8 - The Truth About Leo’s Mother
Blackwood Estate looked like a corpse.
The west wing was burned open to the winter sky. Snow had settled inside rooms that once held crystal chandeliers and antique furniture.
Samuel chose the old ballroom.
Of course he did.
The Morettis had hosted senators, judges, businessmen, and criminals beneath that ceiling.
Now Vittorio sat in a chair at the center of the floor.
Samuel stood behind him.
Leo and I entered together.
Samuel smiled.
“I said son.”
Leo answered, “She goes where I go.”
Samuel’s eyes shifted toward me.
“That’s your weakness.”
“No.”
Leo glanced at me.
“That’s the first good decision I’ve made in years.”
My heart did something stupid.
Samuel looked disgusted.
“You sound like your mother.”
“Good.”
“She believed people could change too.”
Leo stopped.
Samuel slowly circled Vittorio.
“You still haven’t told him, have you?”
Vittorio’s face tightened.
Leo asked, “Told me what?”
Samuel laughed.
“I love families.”
“Shut up.”
“Your mother knew about Daniel Hayes. She knew he was innocent.”
Leo looked at his father.
Vittorio said nothing.
Samuel continued.
“She begged Vittorio to bring him back.”
“Dad?”
“I was afraid.”
The words were quiet.
Leo stared.
Vittorio looked at him.
“I was afraid if Daniel returned, Samuel would release information that could destroy us.”
“What information?”
Vittorio’s face aged in front of us.
“That I had ordered violence against two men years earlier.”
I felt cold.
Leo said, “You let an innocent man lose everything because Samuel had dirt on you.”
“Yes.”
“You let Mom die because Samuel had dirt on you.”
Vittorio’s voice broke.
“Yes.”
Samuel smiled.
“There it is.”
Leo’s hands curled into fists.
“You’re proud of this?”
“I understand power.”
“No.”
I stepped forward.
“You understand fear.”
Samuel looked at me.
“My father was afraid too.”
I thought of Dad coming home with that cardboard box.
“But he still kept the evidence.”
Samuel’s smile vanished.
“You’re nothing like him.”
“Thank you.”
Leo almost smiled.
Samuel pressed his gun against Vittorio.
“Here’s what happens now.”
“No,” Leo said.
Samuel frowned.
“You don’t negotiate anymore.”
“You have my father.”
“And?”
Leo looked at Vittorio.
Something passed between them.
Then Leo said, “My father surrendered control of Moretti Holdings this morning.”
Samuel blinked.
“What?”
Vittorio smiled faintly.
“For once, I listened to my son.”
Samuel’s face changed.
Leo continued.
“The legal businesses are in a blind trust pending federal review. The illegal accounts are frozen.”
“No.”
“Your network has no money.”
Samuel’s breathing became uneven.
“You’re lying.”
“Check.”
Samuel grabbed his phone.
No signal.
Marco had jammed the ballroom remotely.
Samuel fired at the ceiling.
I flinched.
“Do you think I built this for money?”
“Yes,” Vittorio said.
Samuel stared at him.
Vittorio continued.
“That was always your weakness.”
Samuel hit him.
Leo moved.
I grabbed his sleeve.
Not yet.
We had a plan.
Rachel’s team was beneath the ballroom.
The same tunnels Samuel thought only he knew.
I stepped toward Samuel.
“Your problem wasn’t money.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You wanted his seat.”
I nodded toward Vittorio.
“You spent sixteen years proving you were smarter than a man you hated.”
“Be careful.”
“And Leo took everything from you with one signature.”
Samuel raised the gun toward me.
Leo’s voice changed.
“Samuel.”
“Stay back.”
“You point that at her again, this ends badly.”
“It already ends badly.”
Samuel looked at me.
“Your father should have minded his business.”
“Probably.”
I reached into my coat.
“But he didn’t.”
I pulled out Julia’s silver recorder.
Samuel froze.
“You recognize it?”
His face answered.
I pressed play.
His sixteen-year-old voice filled the ballroom.
Once she goes over the bridge, we control the narrative.
Vittorio closed his eyes.
Leo stared at Samuel.
Samuel’s gun shook.
“You think a recording matters?”
“To a jury?”
Rachel’s voice came from the balcony.
“Yes.”
Federal agents emerged from every entrance.
Samuel grabbed Vittorio.
Gunfire erupted.
A chandelier shattered.
Leo pulled me behind a marble column.
Samuel dragged Vittorio toward the terrace.
Rachel shouted, “Drop the weapon!”
Samuel fired.
An agent returned fire.
Samuel stumbled.
Not dead.
Wounded.
He tried to climb over the terrace wall toward a lower roof.
Leo moved toward him.
Samuel looked up.
“Help me.”
The irony was terrible.
Leo stood above the man who had killed his mother.
Samuel’s fingers slipped against the icy ledge.
“Leo!”
Everyone waited.
Leo could have let go.
Nobody would have blamed him.
Instead, he grabbed Samuel’s wrist.
I saw the shock on Samuel’s face.
Leo strained until two agents reached them and pulled Samuel onto the terrace.
Handcuffs closed around his wrists.
Samuel stared at Leo.
“Why?”
Leo breathed hard.
“Because my mother raised me.”
His eyes hardened.
“Not you.”
Vittorio sat against the wall.
Leo approached him.
His father whispered, “You saved him.”
“No.”
Leo looked at the agents taking Samuel away.
“I saved myself from becoming him.”
Then he turned toward me.
Snow drifted through the broken ballroom windows.
For the first time since that night began, there were no armed men coming.
No engines outside.
No footsteps hunting us.
Just silence.
I walked to Leo.
“Is it over?”
He looked at his father.
At the ruined estate.
At me.
“No.”
My stomach sank.
May you like
Then he took my hand.
“But the worst part is.”
