Chapter 6 - THE BROTHER ADRIAN NEVER KNEWDaniel Mercer did not run.
That disturbed Adrian more than anything else.
At six the next morning, Adrian entered the forty-third floor of Moretti International and found Daniel standing at the windows, watching dawn spread across Chicago.
Fifty-two.
Silver hair.
Perfect suit.
The quiet competence Adrian had relied upon for more than a decade.
Daniel turned.
“I wondered when Bellini would tell you.”
Marco closed the office doors behind them.
Adrian did not sit.
“Are you Lorenzo’s son?”
“Yes.”
No denial.
No panic.
Just yes.
Adrian studied him.
“My half brother.”
“Technically.”
“How long have you known?”
“My entire life.”
Adrian absorbed that.
“And you came to work for me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“At first? Father ordered me to.”
Marco cursed under his breath.
Adrian remained motionless.
“And later?”
“I stayed because I discovered you weren’t him.”
Daniel opened a drawer slowly and removed a folder.
Marco’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Daniel stopped.
“Documents.”
Adrian nodded.
Daniel placed them on the desk.
Birth certificate.
Lorenzo Moretti listed as father.
Mother: Evelyn Mercer.
Then photographs.
Lorenzo with Evelyn.
Lorenzo holding Daniel as a baby.
“Father had another family before your mother,” Daniel explained. “Not a wife. A mistress he kept in Milwaukee.”
“Did my mother know?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Matteo?”
“He discovered me shortly before he disappeared.”
Adrian’s heart tightened.
“So you knew Matteo was alive.”
“For a time.”
“And said nothing.”
“I helped him stay alive.”
“That seems to be everybody’s excuse.”
Anger finally cracked through Adrian’s control.
“You all decided what I deserved to know.”
Daniel did not flinch.
“Because at twenty-nine you were still trying to become Lorenzo.”
The words landed.
Adrian stepped forward.
Marco moved subtly between them.
Daniel continued.
“You wore his suits. Sat behind his desk. Used his men. Punished anyone who questioned your authority.”
“I was holding the family together.”
“That’s exactly what Lorenzo always said.”
Adrian stopped.
Daniel’s voice softened.
“Matteo was afraid you’d choose your inheritance over him.”
“He was wrong.”
“Maybe.”
Adrian’s eyes flashed.
Daniel nodded.
“Maybe he was wrong. But he was twenty-one and terrified.”
“Where is he?”
Daniel looked toward the windows.
“I don’t know.”
Adrian’s disappointment became rage.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I lost contact seven years ago.”
“What happened?”
“Matteo had evidence against Lorenzo. He planned to go federal.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Because your father found Elena.”
Sofia’s mother.
Daniel explained that Lorenzo threatened Sofia.
Not directly.
He simply sent Elena photographs of her daughter leaving college.
Going to work.
Buying groceries.
Proof that he could reach her whenever he wanted.
Elena burned most of the evidence.
Matteo disappeared again.
“Then Elena died,” Daniel said.
Sofia had always believed her mother died in a highway accident.
Adrian looked at him.
“Was it an accident?”
Daniel’s silence answered.
Adrian closed his eyes.
“No.”
“She was driving north. Her brake line failed.”
“Lorenzo?”
“I can’t prove it.”
Adrian turned away.
Sofia had lost her mother because of his father’s crimes and had never known.
Emma had been carrying bread through the night because the chain of poverty that began with Lorenzo had continued long after Elena’s death.
Generational cruelty.
That was what inheritance really meant.
Not money.
Consequences.
“Where is Lorenzo?” Adrian asked.
Daniel stared at the floor.
“I can take you to him.”
Marco immediately said, “No.”
Daniel looked at him.
“He has Father Benedict. Bellini will kill him once he stops being useful.”
Adrian nodded.
“Location.”
“Wisconsin.”
“Where?”
Daniel shook his head.
“He moves between properties. I’ll need to contact him.”
“Do it.”
“Adrian—”
“Do it.”
Daniel picked up a secure phone.
He dialed.
A man answered.
Older.
Raspy.
Adrian knew the voice before Daniel spoke.
His father.
“Daniel.”
Lorenzo Moretti was alive.
Adrian’s knees almost weakened.
Daniel glanced at him.
“Father.”
“Does he know?”
“Yes.”
Long pause.
Then laughter.
Lorenzo sounded amused.
“My impatient son.”
Adrian took the phone.
“Hello, Dad.”
Silence.
“Adrian.”
Ten years disappeared.
Suddenly Adrian was twenty-nine again.
Standing beside a hospital bed.
Watching his father die.
Believing the final words Lorenzo whispered to him.
Keep the family strong.
A lie.
Everything had been a lie.
“You buried someone in my place,” Adrian said.
“A necessary sacrifice.”
“Who?”
“A man who owed me more than he could repay.”
Adrian felt disgust.
“Of course.”
Lorenzo chuckled.
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m trying not to be sick.”
“You’ve become sentimental.”
“Maybe.”
“Because of the woman?”
Adrian’s blood chilled.
“What woman?”
“Sofia Russo.”
Lorenzo knew.
“Leave her alone.”
“There’s my boy.”
“You touch Sofia or Emma—”
“You’ll what?”
Lorenzo laughed.
“Kill your own father?”
Adrian said nothing.
Lorenzo’s voice sharpened.
“I built everything you have.”
“No. Thousands of frightened people built it while you stole from them.”
“So righteous now.”
“I’ve read your ledgers.”
“Then you understand power.”
“I understand theft.”
“Same thing when done properly.”
Adrian looked at Daniel.
His half brother seemed ashamed.
“Where is Matteo?”
Lorenzo’s breathing changed.
That mattered.
“He’s dead.”
“You’re lying.”
“Believe whatever comforts you.”
“Where is he?”
“Bring me the original harbor ledger.”
“It’s with investigators.”
“Copies are.”
Adrian realized Lorenzo knew the original remained in evidence custody.
“You have twenty-four hours,” Lorenzo said. “Bring it, and Benedict walks away.”
“And Matteo?”
Another pause.
“Perhaps you’ll finally learn what became of him.”
The line went dead.
Daniel exhaled.
“He’ll expect you.”
“Good.”
Adrian left the office.
Outside, his phone showed twelve missed calls.
Sofia.
He called immediately.
She answered before the first ring finished.
“Emma is gone.”
Adrian stopped walking.
“What?”
“I woke up and she wasn’t here.”
“Where is Margaret?”
“Checking the convent.”
“Doors?”
“Locked.”
“Windows?”
“Locked.”
Adrian’s pulse pounded.
“Sofia, listen to me. Do not leave.”
“You think Lorenzo took her.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not staying here while my daughter—”
A tiny voice sounded in the background.
“Mommy?”
Sofia gasped.
“Emma!”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Relief nearly knocked him over.
Sofia’s voice became half sob, half anger.
“Where were you?”
“In the kitchen.”
“I checked the kitchen!”
“Secret kitchen.”
Adrian frowned.
Secret kitchen?
Margaret took the phone.
“She found an old dumbwaiter shaft and apparently decided it was a fort.”
Adrian leaned against the wall.
For three seconds, he could not speak.
Then he started laughing.
Not polished laughter.
Not restrained amusement.
Real, exhausted laughter.
Sofia joined him.
When they finally stopped, she whispered, “I thought someone took her.”
“I know.”
“I was terrified.”
“I know.”
“Adrian?”
“Yes?”
“Come back before you go anywhere dangerous.”
He hesitated.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I have twenty-four hours.”
“Then spend one of them with us.”
Adrian looked at Marco.
Marco nodded.
Go.
So Adrian did.
That afternoon, he returned to the convent.
Emma ran into his legs.
He picked her up without thinking.
Sofia watched.
Adrian held the child awkwardly at first.
Emma corrected him.
“You’re doing it wrong.”
“How?”
“Like this.”
She wrapped his arm more tightly around herself.
Adrian obeyed.
Sofia’s eyes filled.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“That usually means something.”
She shook her head.
“You look less scary holding a toddler.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your reputation would never recover.”
Emma whispered loudly, “He’s still bossy.”
That evening, after Emma slept, Adrian told Sofia the truth about Elena’s death.
He expected anger.
He received silence.
Then Sofia stood and walked outside.
Adrian followed.
Snow had begun falling.
Sofia stopped beneath an old oak tree.
“My mother was afraid during the last year of her life,” she said.
Adrian stayed quiet.
“She checked the locks four times every night. Changed our phone number. Refused to let me post pictures online.”
Her voice cracked.
“I thought she was becoming paranoid.”
“She was protecting you.”
“I got angry with her.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I told her I was tired of living like something terrible was going to happen.”
Sofia wiped tears from her cheek.
“Three weeks later she died.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For the Moretti name entering your life before you ever met me.”
“You aren’t your father.”
“I benefited from him.”
“That’s different.”
“Not to the people he hurt.”
“No.”
She looked directly at him.
“But what you do next matters.”
Adrian nodded.
“I’m going to dismantle everything connected to those ledgers.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
“Even if it costs you?”
“Yes.”
Sofia studied him.
“Then Matteo was wrong about you.”
“We don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Adrian looked at her.
Sofia stepped forward and kissed him.
It was brief.
Gentle.
Unexpected.
When she pulled back, Adrian seemed stunned.
Sofia whispered, “Come back.”
This time he did not joke.
“I’ll try.”
“No.”
Her fingers caught his coat.
“Don’t try.”
He covered her hand with his.
“I’ll come back.”
The following morning, Adrian left for Wisconsin.
Daniel drove.
Marco followed with a separate team miles behind.
The destination was an abandoned lakeside resort near Eagle River.
Snow covered the road.
As they approached the property, Daniel said quietly, “There’s something else.”
Adrian looked over.
“What?”
“I said I lost contact with Matteo seven years ago.”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t entirely true.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
Daniel continued.
“I received one message three months ago.”
Adrian sat forward.
“From Matteo?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Daniel handed him a folded sheet.
Adrian opened it.
Three words.
I found him.
Below them was an address.
The address of the resort they were approaching.
Adrian stared.
“Matteo came here.”
Daniel nodded.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“And never left?”
“I don’t know.”
The gates opened ahead.
A solitary figure stood beside the main lodge.
Older.
White-haired.
Cane in one hand.
Lorenzo Moretti.
Alive.
Adrian’s father smiled as the car approached.
But Adrian barely saw him.
Because behind Lorenzo, through the lodge window, another man was visible.
Thin.
Bearded.
Scar across one cheek.
Older than Adrian remembered.
But unmistakable.
Matteo.
May you like
Adrian’s missing brother was alive.
And judging by the locked metal collar around his neck, he was still a prisoner.
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