Chapter 9 - The Price of an Heir
Josephine made the decision before anyone could argue.
“I’m going.”
Andrew grabbed her wrist.
“No.”
Dante said the same word.
Josephine pulled free.
“There’s a child involved.”
“There are always children involved when Carlo wants leverage,” Vittorio whispered from the floor.
Paramedics were arriving.
Dante looked at his father.
Then at Josephine.
“You walk into Carlo’s hands and he won’t release Lucas.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know him.”
“Then give me another option.”
Dante said nothing.
Andrew stepped forward.
“We trade the archive.”
Josephine looked at him.
“No.”
“It’s what he wants.”
“No, it’s what kept everyone alive long enough to get here.”
Rebecca’s scream echoed in Josephine’s head.
Lucas’s frightened voice.
The boy had done nothing except be born into other people’s history.
Josephine understood something then.
Michael’s letter.
Do not inherit my war.
Inheritance was not merely accepting power.
It was accepting the rules.
Carlo expected them to trade people like pieces.
Josephine would not.
“We give him something better than the archive,” she said.
Dante watched her.
“What?”
“Me.”
Andrew swore.
“Listen first.”
They did.
An hour later Josephine walked into an abandoned meatpacking facility on the South Side.
Alone.
At least that was what Carlo believed.
A wire was concealed beneath her dress.
Dante hated the plan.
Andrew hated it more.
Josephine considered that encouraging.
Carlo waited beside a metal table.
Lucas sat in a chair nearby.
Rebecca was tied several feet away.
Carlo looked healthier than a dying man should.
“So,” he said, “Michael’s daughter.”
Josephine ignored him and looked at Lucas.
“Are you hurt?”
The boy shook his head.
Carlo smiled.
“Already protective.”
“He’s six.”
“He’s Moretti.”
“He’s a child.”
Carlo shrugged.
“In our family those are temporary conditions.”
Josephine’s stomach turned.
“Let them go.”
“First the card.”
“I destroyed it.”
Carlo’s smile vanished.
Josephine continued.
“Copies went to three attorneys.”
“You’re lying.”
“One to a federal prosecutor in New York. One to a journalist. One to an encrypted dead-man server.”
Carlo stepped closer.
“You think this is a television drama?”
“No. In television, men like you are usually more interesting.”
Rebecca almost laughed.
Carlo struck Josephine.
Her head snapped sideways.
The wire remained intact.
She tasted blood.
“Where is the card?”
Josephine looked at him.
“I told you.”
Carlo reached for Lucas.
Josephine’s calm vanished.
“Touch him and everything releases automatically.”
Carlo stopped.
Josephine prayed he believed her.
The dead-man server existed.
But Dante controlled it.
Carlo circled her.
“You look like Michael.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“He was weak.”
“He frightened you enough to kill him.”
Carlo’s face hardened.
Good.
Josephine needed him angry.
Angry men talked.
“Michael thought evidence mattered.”
“It does.”
“No. Power matters.”
“Then why spend thirty years looking for his evidence?”
Carlo stepped closer.
“Because myths matter.”
There it was.
Josephine continued.
“And Elena?”
Carlo smiled faintly.
“What about her?”
“You killed her too.”
Carlo tilted his head.
“Dante is listening, isn’t he?”
Josephine’s heart skipped.
Carlo reached toward her collar.
She backed away.
He laughed.
“You think I survived this long by trusting silence?”
He raised his voice.
“Hello, nephew.”
Outside, Dante heard every word.
Carlo took Josephine’s phone from her bag.
He smashed it.
Then he found the wire.
He pulled it free.
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Josephine’s pulse hammered.
Carlo leaned toward the microphone.
“Dante, your father taught you better.”
He crushed the transmitter beneath his shoe.
Silence.
Carlo turned to Josephine.
“Now we can speak honestly.”
“About what?”
“Andrew.”
She forced her face blank.
Carlo noticed.
“Ah.”
He smiled.
“You still love him.”
Josephine said nothing.
“He’s the reason Rebecca lost seven years.”
Rebecca lunged against her restraints.
“Shut up.”
Josephine looked at her.
Carlo continued.
“Andrew found Rebecca and Lucas before anyone else.”
“I know.”
“No.”
He enjoyed the pause.
“He found them because Shaw told him to.”
Josephine’s stomach tightened.
“Andrew thought Shaw was federal.”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t know.”
“At first.”
Rebecca’s voice cracked.
“Don’t.”
Josephine turned.
“What?”
Rebecca looked at Andrew’s unseen direction as though he could somehow hear.
Carlo smiled.
“Tell her.”
Rebecca shook her head.
Josephine stepped toward her.
“Rebecca.”
Tears filled Rebecca’s eyes.
“Andrew knew Shaw was compromised before he faked his death.”
Josephine froze.
“That’s not what he said.”
“I know.”
Carlo’s smile widened.
“He discovered it two years earlier.”
Josephine’s throat tightened.
“Why keep working?”
Rebecca answered quietly.
“Because Shaw had me.”
Josephine looked at her.
“And Lucas?”
“Yes.”
The truth shifted again.
Andrew had not continued working for Shaw because he was fooled.
He continued because Shaw held hostages.
Carlo spoke.
“Your husband stole from me. Lied to Dante. Betrayed Shaw. Faked his death.”
He leaned closer.
“But there is one thing he never betrayed.”
Josephine refused to ask.
Carlo answered anyway.
“You.”
The words hurt more than hatred would have.
Because love had been Andrew’s excuse for every lie.
Suddenly lights went out.
Darkness.
Gunfire.
Carlo cursed.
Josephine dropped.
A hand grabbed her.
She fought.
“Josie.”
Andrew.
He pulled her behind machinery.
“Lucas?”
“Dante has him.”
“Rebecca?”
“With his men.”
Josephine struck Andrew’s chest.
“You knew about Shaw two years earlier.”
Even in darkness she felt him go still.
“Josephine—”
“You lied again.”
“Not now.”
“When? After your second funeral?”
He grabbed her shoulders.
“Carlo is still here.”
A shot hit metal nearby.
They ran.
At the far exit Dante appeared with Lucas in his arms.
Rebecca followed.
Safe.
Josephine felt relief.
Then Dante stopped.
His face changed.
Andrew looked behind them.
Carlo stood on an upper catwalk.
Gun aimed downward.
Not at Josephine.
At Dante.
A shot fired.
Andrew moved first.
He shoved Dante aside.
The bullet struck Andrew in the chest.
Josephine screamed.
Andrew fell.
Carlo disappeared through a rear door.
Josephine dropped beside her husband.
Blood spread beneath her hands.
Andrew tried to speak.
“Josie—”
“Don’t.”
“I need—”
“No.”
His fingers closed around hers.
“There’s something else.”
“Save your strength.”
“You need to know.”
His eyes began losing focus.
Josephine leaned closer.
Andrew whispered five words.
May you like
“I wasn’t the first husband.”
Then his hand went limp.
