Chapter 2 - THE BROTHER WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD
Dante Moretti had buried his younger brother on a rainy November morning seven years earlier.
At least, he believed he had.
Gabriel Moretti had been twenty-four.
Brilliant.
Reckless.
Too kind for the world their father had built.
He'd wanted to leave the family's criminal operations and turn their legitimate shipping businesses into something respectable.
Dante had called him naive.
Gabriel had called Dante a coward.
Their last conversation ended in an argument.
Three days later, Gabriel's car exploded near an abandoned warehouse.
The remains were identified through dental records.
The funeral was closed-casket.
Dante remembered standing in the cemetery while rain soaked through his coat.
He remembered his mother's sobbing.
He remembered promising himself that whoever killed Gabriel would never know peace.
And now, seven years later, a stranger in his ballroom was telling him the grave contained someone else.
The elderly man was named Samuel Price.
He had worked for Richard Whitmore's transportation company for thirty-one years.
Dante approached him.
“Explain.”
Samuel's hands shook.
“Mr. Moretti, I shouldn't have said anything.”
“You already did.”
Richard Whitmore stepped forward.
“Samuel is confused.”
Dante turned.
“Sit down.”
Richard stopped.
Dante looked back at Samuel.
“Tell me what you know.”
Samuel swallowed.
“Seven years ago, I was ordered to transport a sealed medical container from a private clinic.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“Where?”
“An old property outside Milwaukee.”
“What was inside?”
Samuel's eyes filled.
“A man.”
Silence.
Dante felt his pulse hammer.
“Who?”
Samuel whispered:
“Gabriel Moretti.”
Elena stood beside the fireplace, barely breathing.
She didn't understand why her name was connected to Dante's brother.
She didn't understand why someone had targeted her mother.
But she knew one thing.
The Whitmores were terrified.
Vanessa gripped her father's arm.
“Daddy, do something.”
Richard whispered sharply:
“Be quiet.”
Dante heard him.
He turned toward them.
“Marcus.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Preserve every recording from tonight.”
Marcus nodded.
“Already done.”
Dante looked at the guests.
“This event is over.”
Nobody argued.
Then he turned toward Elena.
“You're coming with me.”
She stepped back.
“No.”
Dante stopped.
Elena's voice shook.
“My mother is in the hospital. I'm going to her.”
For a moment, Dante stared.
Then nodded.
“Of course.”
He looked at Marcus.
“Arrange a secure ride.”
Elena shook her head.
“I don't need—”
Dante interrupted gently.
“Someone tried to move your mother without permission.”
He paused.
“I won't force you to accept help. But I would feel better knowing you arrived safely.”
Elena looked at him.
Then whispered:
“Okay.”
As she walked toward the doors, Samuel Price caught her sleeve.
“Miss Morales.”
She turned.
His face was pale.
“Your mother worked at St. Agnes Clinic seven years ago.”
Elena froze.
“Yes.”
May you like
Samuel's voice trembled.
“Then ask her about the patient who called himself Michael.”
