Chapter 8 - THE BROTHER WHO REFUSED TO STAY DEAD
Z
Derek did not sleep.
He sat in Leo's apartment until dawn, staring at the phone.
Every few minutes, he replayed the call.
Not a recording.
The memory.
The voice.
The pause before his name.
The way Leo had said I'm coming home as though the words frightened him.
At six in the morning, Derek called Isabella.
She answered immediately.
“Did something happen?”
He swallowed.
“Leo called me.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “What?”
“My brother. He called.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Isabella began crying.
Derek closed his eyes.
He had forgotten what hope sounded like until he heard it in her voice.
The authorities were informed.
The call was documented.
Investigators continued trying to verify its origin and determine whether Leo was safe.
Derek wanted to send every person he trusted to search for him.
But he had learned something in recent weeks.
Trying to control every outcome could make a dangerous situation worse.
So he waited.
And prepared.
Two days later, Isabella received a letter.
It had been mailed from Vermont.
Inside was a photograph of a wooden cabin beside a lake.
On the back, someone had written:
Remember the red canoe.
Isabella stared.
Derek watched her expression change.
“What does it mean?”
She looked up.
“Leo and I hid near a lake after the Costa warehouse fire.”
Derek frowned.
“You were together?”
“For three weeks.”
“He never told me.”
“He was afraid.”
“Of me?”
Isabella hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
The admission hurt.
But Derek no longer tried to argue with it.
They met Leo at a protected location arranged through his attorney and investigators.
Derek arrived first.
He waited in a plain conference room with beige walls and a table covered in paper cups.
For a man accustomed to luxury, the room felt absurdly ordinary.
Then the door opened.
Leo walked in.
He was thirty-one now.
Thinner.
Older.
His dark hair was shorter, and a pale scar ran along his jaw.
But his eyes were the same.
Derek stood so quickly his chair fell backward.
“Leo.”
His brother stopped.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Leo whispered, “Hey, big brother.”
Derek crossed the room.
He embraced him.
Hard.
For five years, he'd imagined touching a coffin.
Now he could feel his brother breathing.
Alive.
Warm.
Real.
He began crying.
Leo held him tighter.
“I'm sorry.”
Derek shook his head.
“No.”
“Derek—”
“No.”
He pulled back.
“Don't apologize for surviving.”
Leo's face crumpled.
They embraced again.
When Isabella entered, Leo went still.
He stared at her silver hair.
Then whispered, “Bella.”
She covered her mouth.
“Leo.”
He stepped toward her.
She began crying.
He held out his arms.
She moved into them.
For a long time, they said nothing.
Then Isabella whispered, “You promised you would come back.”
Leo closed his eyes.
“I tried.”
She pulled away.
“Five years, Leo.”
“I know.”
“You knew I was alive?”
“I hoped.”
Her voice broke.
“I lived on the streets.”
His expression collapsed.
“I didn't know that.”
For a moment, anger flashed across her face.
Then grief overtook it.
She began crying again.
Leo held her.
Derek watched from the doorway.
He realized the reunion wasn't simple.
Love didn't erase abandonment.
Survival didn't cancel the pain of being left behind.
They would need time.
All of them.
Eventually, Leo sat beside Derek.
He placed a folder on the table.
“Everything I could preserve.”
Derek stared.
“What is it?”
“Financial records. Witness statements. Evidence about the former Harborlight contractors.”
He looked toward Isabella.
“And information about what happened to the Costa family.”
Derek took a breath.
“Did our father order the fire?”
Leo looked down.
Then nodded.
“The evidence indicates he authorized the operation that led to it.”
Derek closed his eyes.
He had suspected.
Now the words were unbearable.
Leo continued.
“But Salvatore wasn't acting alone.”
Derek looked up.
“Who else?”
His brother's expression hardened.
“Vincent Caruso.”
Then Leo said something that made Derek's blood run cold.
May you like
“Vincent didn't just help cover it up.”
“He's been running the same financial network since our father died.”
