Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF REDEMPTIONEthan had been shot in the chest.
Victor had been shot in the shoulder.
For several seconds I could not understand why.
Then I saw Detective Torres near the doorway, weapon raised.
She had fired at Victor.
Victor had fired at Ethan.
Ethan collapsed beside me.
“Stay down!” agents shouted.
Lucian reached me first.
His arms closed around me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“The baby?”
“I don’t know.”
His face lost all color.
“I’m okay. I think I’m okay.”
Agents restrained Victor.
He screamed as they rolled him onto his injured shoulder.
“You stupid girl! Everything was yours!”
I stared at him.
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“You have my blood!”
“No.”
I touched my chest.
“I have Elaine’s courage.”
Then my stomach.
“And this child will inherit choices.”
Victor stared at me with pure hatred.
For the first time in my life, hatred from a dangerous man did not make me feel small.
Ethan coughed.
Blood touched his lips.
I knelt.
Lucian tried to stop me.
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t.
Nothing about Ethan would ever be okay.
He had hurt me.
Manipulated me.
Terrified me.
He had participated in a conspiracy against me.
And he had just taken a bullet while trying to save my life.
Human beings rarely fit cleanly into boxes.
Monster.
Victim.
Hero.
Villain.
Sometimes one person managed to be several things at once.
Ethan looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I need—”
“No. Save your strength.”
He laughed weakly.
“Always telling me what to do.”
“Somebody had to.”
His eyes closed briefly.
“I loved you.”
I stared.
“That doesn’t erase what you did.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t know how to love me safely.”
“No.”
“And I will never tell you it was okay.”
“I know.”
I took his hand anyway.
Not forgiveness.
Not absolution.
Simply humanity.
“Stay alive,” I whispered. “Then spend the rest of your life becoming better than the man you were.”
Paramedics arrived.
They rushed Ethan away.
Victor was taken under armed federal escort.
Lucian and I went to the hospital.
Again.
The ultrasound showed a heartbeat.
Strong.
Fast.
Alive.
Lucian cried.
This time he did not hide it.
Neither did I.
Afterward, when we were alone, I handed him his wedding ring.
He stared at it.
“You kept it.”
“Of course.”
“I lied to you.”
“Yes.”
“I knew Rebecca existed.”
“Yes.”
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
No excuses.
That mattered.
“I was afraid telling you would bring danger.”
“It did anyway.”
“I know.”
“And you made my choice for me.”
“Yes.”
I waited.
He met my eyes.
“I was wrong.”
The words landed somewhere tender.
“I need to trust that when you say you love me, you aren’t deciding what truth I can handle.”
“You should.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He slid the ring back onto his finger.
“I can promise never to knowingly hide something about your life from you again.”
“Even if it scares you.”
“Especially then.”
“Even if you think you’re protecting me.”
He almost smiled.
“I’m never using that phrase with you again.”
“Good.”
I leaned against his shoulder.
For a moment we simply listened to the sounds of the hospital.
Then I asked, “What happens to your family names on the ledger?”
He was quiet.
“Federal investigation.”
“Are you going to interfere?”
“No.”
“Even if people close to you go to prison?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because I spent my whole life watching men destroy families in the name of protecting families.”
He touched my stomach.
“I’m done continuing that tradition.”
The arrests began two days later.
Three retired police officers.
A former alderman.
Two judges.
Six businessmen.
A state senator resigned before dawn and was indicted by lunch.
Richard Cole remained missing.
Victor refused to cooperate.
The media exploded.
MORETTI WIFE AT CENTER OF CHICAGO CORRUPTION PROBE.
JUDGE’S SECRET DAUGHTER HOLDS KEY TO DECADES-OLD SCANDAL.
MOB HEIRESS?
That one annoyed me most.
“I’m not a mob heiress.”
Lucian looked over his newspaper.
“You might technically be.”
I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it.
“Stop.”
“I said technically.”
“Your aunt raised me.”
“Exactly.”
“Which makes it weird enough already.”
“You married into the family twice.”
Another pillow.
He laughed.
It felt good to hear.
Then Marco entered.
His expression killed the moment.
“Richard Cole surfaced.”
“Where?” Lucian asked.
“Federal courthouse.”
I stood.
“He surrendered?”
“No.”
Marco looked at me.
“He’s holding twenty-three people hostage.”
My blood went cold.
“What does he want?”
“You.”
Lucian immediately said, “No.”
Marco continued.
“He says he will release one hostage every ten minutes if Norah comes.”
“I said no.”
I looked at Lucian.
“You don’t get to decide alone.”
“He’s armed.”
“So are federal negotiators.”
“He is your biological father.”
“He’s a criminal with hostages.”
“Exactly.”
I grabbed my coat.
Lucian blocked the door.
“Norah.”
“Twenty-three people.”
“You are pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You are not walking into a building with an armed man.”
“I’m going to the command center, not inside.”
That stopped him.
“I can talk to him by phone.”
He considered.
Then stepped aside.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m coming.”
“I assumed.”
At the federal courthouse, Richard Cole stood behind glass doors with a pistol.
The same man whose photograph had appeared in newspapers my entire childhood.
Distinguished.
Respectable.
Honorable.
All branding.
Detective Torres handed me a phone.
“You do not promise him anything.”
“Understood.”
“You keep him talking.”
The line connected.
His voice was surprisingly warm.
“Norah.”
“Richard.”
A pause.
“Not Dad?”
“You didn’t earn it.”
He sighed.
“Elaine poisoned you against me.”
“Elaine saved me from you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Everyone keeps saying that right before explaining something terrible.”
“I loved your mother.”
“Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“You got her pregnant at seventeen.”
“I was twenty-four.”
“That does not improve the story.”
He became quiet.
“I wanted you.”
“You wanted your career.”
“I protected you.”
“You ordered Ethan to push me off a balcony.”
“He was never supposed to actually do it.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Even attempted murder came with technicalities.
“You put twenty-three innocent people in danger.”
“They’re leverage.”
“They’re human beings.”
“You’re a Moretti now. Don’t pretend you don’t understand leverage.”
Lucian heard that through the speaker.
His jaw tightened.
I answered calmly.
“The difference between you and my husband is that he is trying to become better than what raised him.”
“And you believe that?”
“I watch him do it.”
Richard laughed.
“You’re naive.”
“Maybe.”
I looked through the courthouse doors.
A terrified young woman crouched behind a desk.
“Release the hostages.”
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“Then someone dies.”
I thought about Ethan.
About Rebecca.
About Elaine.
About every person these men had manipulated by convincing them there were no choices.
Then I understood what Richard feared most.
Loss of control.
“You won’t shoot them.”
“You think you know me?”
“No.”
I smiled faintly.
“But I know you’re a coward.”
His breathing changed.
“You built your entire life by making other people commit your crimes.”
“Careful.”
“Ethan hurt me for you.”
“Careful.”
“Victor buried evidence for you.”
“Stop.”
“Elaine was braver than you.”
“STOP!”
“All these years, Richard, you never actually did anything yourself.”
The lobby suddenly erupted.
Richard raised the gun.
Federal snipers adjusted.
I continued.
“You want me? Walk outside and face me.”
Silence.
“Unless you’re afraid of your own daughter.”
The courthouse door opened.
Richard stepped out.
His weapon was pointed at me.
Lucian moved in front of me instantly.
Richard laughed.
“See? Another man doing it for you.”
I stepped beside Lucian.
Not in front.
Beside.
“Put the gun down.”
Richard aimed.
“Your mother ruined my life.”
“No.”
I looked him directly in the eyes.
“You did.”
His finger tightened on the trigger.
A shot rang out.
Lucian grabbed me.
Richard collapsed.
A federal marksman had hit his shoulder.
The gun slid across the pavement.
Agents swarmed him.
Twenty-three hostages walked out alive.
As Richard was loaded into an ambulance, our eyes met.
He looked old.
Not powerful.
Not frightening.
Just old.
I touched my stomach.
The cycle ended here.
Or at least mine did.
But one person was still missing from the story.
Rebecca.
May you like
And three days later, she disappeared.
Leaving behind a letter addressed to me.
