Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO BID ON MY FATHER'S SECRET
We didn't get to bid.
Someone bought Lot 17 before the auction officially started.
Five million dollars.
Cash-equivalent transfer.
Anonymous buyer.
Michael was furious.
Quietly furious.
The dangerous kind.
One of his men intercepted the auction broker before he could leave.
The broker swore he didn't know the buyer's identity.
But he knew where the package had been delivered.
A parking garage in Lower Manhattan.
We arrived twelve minutes too late.
The package was gone.
One security camera captured the buyer's car.
Michael stared at the license plate.
“You recognize it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
I thought I'd misunderstood.
“Your father bought the evidence?”
Michael didn't answer.
He called him.
No response.
Again.
Nothing.
Michael's father, Lorenzo Moretti, lived mostly in Florida and rarely came to New York.
At least, that's what Michael believed.
Twenty minutes later, we learned Lorenzo had been in Manhattan for three days.
Secretly.
Michael looked betrayed in a way I recognized.
That was the worst part of discovering family secrets.
Not the lie itself.
The realization that somebody had looked into your face while carrying it.
We drove to Lorenzo's private apartment.
He opened the door himself.
Seventy-two.
Silver hair.
Straight posture.
Eyes identical to Michael's.
His gaze moved to me.
“Daniel's daughter.”
I hated that everyone knew me before I knew them.
“Where's the necklace?”
Lorenzo stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The black case sat on the dining table.
Inside was my mother's necklace.
I reached toward it.
Lorenzo stopped me.
“Not yet.”
Michael's voice turned cold.
“You bought evidence concerning Carlo's murder.”
“I bought evidence that could destroy this family.”
“Those aren't the same thing.”
“They are sometimes.”
Michael stepped closer.
“Did Carlo die of a heart attack?”
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
“No.”
There it was.
Another family lie.
“Who killed him?” I asked.
Lorenzo looked at me.
“Your father.”
My breath disappeared.
“No.”
“He confronted Carlo after discovering the stolen money.”
“My father wasn't violent.”
“Neither was Carlo supposed to be.”
Lorenzo explained that Daniel had arranged to meet Carlo at an old shipyard.
Carlo attacked him.
A struggle followed.
Carlo fell from an elevated loading platform.
He died instantly.
My father panicked.
Lorenzo helped conceal the death to avoid a war among Moretti factions.
“Why?”
Michael demanded.
“Because Carlo had loyal men who would have killed Daniel and Aurora.”
My knees weakened.
“So my father didn't murder him.”
“No.”
“He defended himself.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Dad die?”
Lorenzo's face changed.
“That wasn't supposed to happen.”
I stepped toward him.
“What does that mean?”
Before he answered, a window shattered.
Michael moved faster than I thought possible.
He dragged me behind a stone column as one of his guards shoved Lorenzo down.
Another impact hit the wall.
No one was struck.
Michael's men rushed outside.
The shooter escaped.
But he left something behind.
A discarded phone.
Only one message remained on the screen.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE BELL GIRL BURIED WITH HER FATHER.
The sender's number was hidden.
But the phone contained one photograph.
Regina.
Alive.
Standing beside a man whose face made Lorenzo whisper a name.
“Impossible.”
Michael looked at him.
“Who is he?”
Lorenzo's voice shook.
“Daniel Bell.”
I stared at the photograph.
May you like
My father had been dead for eight years.
But the image was dated three days ago.
