Chapter 7 - THE UNCLE WHO SMILED AT FUNERALS
Gabriel Moretti was sixty-seven.
He lived in a penthouse overlooking Lake Michigan.
He had retired from the family business ten years earlier.
At least officially.
Dante had always considered him a second father.
Gabriel attended every birthday.
Every funeral.
Every family celebration.
He was the man who comforted Dante after Bianca died.
The man who told him that grief made men weak.
The man who taught him never to question family loyalty.
Now Dante sat across from him.
Alessia waited in the adjoining room with Nathan.
Gabriel poured whiskey.
"What's this about, Dante?"
Dante looked at him.
"Elena."
Gabriel's hand stopped.
Only for a second.
Then he smiled.
"Your sister?"
Dante nodded.
"Yes."
Gabriel sighed.
"That was a long time ago."
Dante stared.
"She didn't die."
Silence.
Gabriel lowered the glass.
"What?"
"She was taken."
Gabriel's expression hardened.
"Who told you that?"
Dante leaned forward.
"Does it matter?"
Gabriel looked away.
Dante placed the photograph of Elena and Sofia on the table.
Gabriel stared.
His face changed.
"Where did you get that?"
Dante watched him.
"Do you recognize them?"
Gabriel said nothing.
"Elena. Sofia."
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
Dante continued.
"Two little girls taken from their families."
Gabriel stood.
"You're making a mistake."
Dante didn't move.
"Sit down."
Gabriel turned.
"Don't speak to me like that."
Dante's voice remained calm.
"Then don't lie to me."
For a moment, the room felt dangerous.
Then Gabriel laughed bitterly.
"You think you're better than us?"
Dante stared.
"I think children deserved better."
Gabriel's smile disappeared.
He sat.
Then whispered:
"Your father started it."
Dante felt cold.
"And you helped."
Gabriel looked away.
"I handled transportation."
"Of children?"
Silence.
Dante leaned forward.
"Of children, Gabriel?"
His uncle nodded.
Dante closed his eyes.
He wanted to scream.
To break something.
To make Gabriel feel even a fraction of the pain he'd caused.
But he stayed seated.
Because anger would not bring Elena home.
"Where are they?" Dante asked.
Gabriel looked at him.
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
Gabriel sighed.
"Bellini handled the placements."
Dante stared.
"Then why did he take the red folder?"
Gabriel's face changed.
"What red folder?"
Dante watched him.
"The one from the safe."
Gabriel went pale.
"That folder contains the original transfer records," Gabriel whispered.
Dante leaned forward.
"And?"
Gabriel swallowed.
"The names of every family involved."
Silence.
Then he added:
"And the names of the people who paid to make the children disappear."
Dante stared.
Gabriel looked toward the window.
"If Bellini sells that folder, people will die."
That evening, Dante received a message.
A photograph of Alessia's father.
Carlo Romano.
Inside a prison infirmary.
May you like
Beneath it was written:
YOU HAVE 48 HOURS.
