Chapter 5 - The Uncle Who Came Too Quickly
Victor Moretti entered the house smiling.
That was the first thing Clara noticed.
Not the expensive gray coat. Not the silver hair. Not the polished shoes that made no sound on the marble.
The smile.
A man had just fired into the house where his grandnephew lived, and Victor walked in smiling like he had come for Sunday dinner.
“Rico,” he said, opening his arms. “I heard there was trouble.”
Rico stood at the bottom of the staircase.
Behind him were Dante, three armed guards, Clara and Leo.
The damaged blue room was upstairs.
The burner phone was in Rico’s pocket.
He had told no one about it.
“Who told you?” Rico asked.
Victor’s smile faded by one degree.
“Marco.”
“Marco is locked in the restaurant kitchen with his phone confiscated.”
Silence.
Victor looked at Dante.
“Then one of the boys.”
“Which one?”
Victor sighed.
“Are we doing this?”
Rico descended one step.
“We are doing exactly this.”
Leo hid behind Clara’s skirt.
Victor’s eyes dropped to him.
Then to Clara.
Something flickered across his face.
Recognition.
Too fast for anyone who was not watching for it.
Rico was watching.
“So,” he said quietly, “you know her.”
Victor looked back at him. “Should I?”
Clara stepped forward.
“My mother was Anna Vale.”
Victor stopped breathing.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
Rico smiled without warmth.
“There it is.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know you used your security override at 10:43.”
“That code is on file with the system.”
“Not anymore. I changed all family access after Elena died.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
Rico continued.
“Only you and I retained emergency override.”
“Then someone copied mine.”
“Maybe.”
Victor looked at Clara again.
This time he did not hide it.
“She looks like Anna.”
Clara felt sick.
“You told Rico you never met her.”
Victor’s eyes sharpened. “You should be careful repeating private family conversations.”
“She is family,” Rico said.
Victor stared at him.
Rico enjoyed that for exactly one second.
Then his phone buzzed.
Dante checked a message and stepped close.
“Anna’s crash file came through.”
Rico held out his hand.
Dante passed him the tablet.
The official report said Anna Vance had lost control on a rain-slick road, struck a barrier and died at the scene.
But the photographs told another story.
The rear bumper had been crushed before impact.
There were black paint transfers along the left side.
And tucked into the evidence inventory was an item never mentioned in the summary.
ONE SILVER CUFF BUTTON, CROWN EMBLEM.
Clara sat down hard on the bottom stair.
Victor looked toward the door.
Dante moved to block it.
Rico lifted the tablet.
“Anything you want to explain?”
Victor’s face hardened.
“Yes. Your wife became obsessed.”
The words hit harder than a slap.
Rico went still.
Victor continued.
“Elena found old transactions she did not understand. She turned every coincidence into conspiracy. Anna died in a crash. Elena died because the Valentis wanted you dead. Terrible things happen in our world without needing one puppet master.”
“You said my mother should have taken the warning,” Clara said.
Victor’s eyes cut to her.
Rico’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Victor noticed.
“Where did you hear that?”
Rico took out Elena’s phone.
Victor’s composure broke.
Not much.
Enough.
“You kept that?” he whispered.
“I found it tonight.”
Victor stared at the phone as if it were a loaded gun.
Rico pressed play.
Elena’s recorded voice filled the foyer.
Victor listened to himself being named by a dead woman.
When it ended, no one spoke.
Finally Victor said, “She recorded me without context.”
“What context makes that sentence good?” Clara asked.
Victor ignored her.
“Rico, listen to me. I did move money through those companies.”
Dante shifted his stance.
Victor lifted a hand.
“Not to betray you. To protect you.”
Rico laughed softly.
“Try harder.”
“The Valentis were preparing for war. Your father was sick. You were twenty-six and reckless. I paid intermediaries to keep shipments off our docks, to keep soldiers out of our neighborhoods, to buy information. Yes, I hid it in the foundation because your father would have called it weakness.”
“And Anna?”
“She saw numbers. She assumed the worst.”
“So you threatened her?”
“I warned her that talking would make her visible.”
Clara stood.
“Did you kill her?”
Victor looked at her.
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Dante’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
“Unknown number.”
Rico nodded.
Dante answered on speaker.
A man’s voice came through.
“Rico Moretti?”
“Who is this?”
“You want the truth about your wife?”
Victor’s face changed.
Rico saw it.
“Yes.”
“Ask your uncle where he was at 11:17 the night Elena died.”
Victor lunged for the phone.
Dante shoved him backward.
The caller continued.
“And ask him why the car that shot her was registered to a shell company he created.”
The line went dead.
Rico looked at Victor.
“Where were you?”
Victor’s face was gray.
“Rico.”
“Where.”
“At St. Vincent’s.”
Dante was already typing.
“Hospital cameras?”
“Check them.”
Victor suddenly looked exhausted.
“My wife was dying that night.”
Rico stopped.
Victor’s wife, Lucia, had died of cancer two days after Elena.
Everyone knew that.
Dante looked up.
“Hospital badge logs show Victor entered at 9:04 and left at 1:32.”
Clara looked at Rico.
The accusation had cracked.
Not vanished.
But cracked.
Victor exhaled.
“I did not kill Elena.”
Rico’s jaw tightened.
“Then who is using your code?”
Victor looked toward the dark hallway.
“I don’t know.”
A scream came from the kitchen.
Everyone moved.
They found one of Rico’s guards on the floor near the service entrance, unconscious but breathing.
The back door was open.
And Teresa was gone.
On the counter lay a single black-crown button.
Clara stared at it.
“No.”
Rico picked it up.
Dante swore.
Victor’s face changed in a way Clara did not understand.
Rico noticed.
“What?”
Victor looked at the button.
“That is not a Valenti button.”
Rico frowned.
“I know their insignia.”
“No,” Victor said. “You know what someone wanted you to think was their insignia.”
He took the button and turned it over.
“The Valentis use a crown with five points.”
This one had four.
Victor looked at Rico.
“These were made for your father’s private security unit twenty years ago.”
Dante’s face went still.
Rico’s voice dropped.
“Who ran that unit?”
Victor looked at him.
“Your father’s closest friend.”
A name none of them had said in years.
“Salvatore Carbone.”
Clara felt Rico go rigid.
May you like
Salvatore Carbone had been dead for eight years.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
