Chapter 6 - THE TRADE I REFUSED TO MAKE
“No.”
That was my answer.
Everyone stared.
Leo had come personally.
Detective Reyes.
Federal agents.
Dad.
Mom.
All of them expected fear.
I was terrified.
Still no.
“Natalia wants me in exchange for Nico?”
“Yes,” Leo said.
“No.”
“Myra—”
“I am not walking into a kidnapping because your son made terrible choices.”
Leo flinched.
Fair.
Then I continued:
“But I'm not letting him die either.”
We worked with police.
Professionals.
No ridiculous exchange.
Natalia wanted me because she believed I could recreate access to the MYRA archive.
She didn't know authorities already had it.
We could use that.
I agreed to speak by phone.
Nothing more.
Natalia called.
“Hello, Myra.”
“You wanted me.”
“You're calmer than Nico.”
I heard breathing in the background.
Nico.
Alive.
“What do you want?”
“The archive.”
“Police have it.”
Silence.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Thomas would never.”
“He did.”
Natalia's voice sharpened.
“Then you're useless.”
That sentence frightened me more than anything.
I heard Nico shout.
A strike.
Then silence.
“Natalia.”
“Yes?”
“You spent your entire life letting your father tell you who ruined it.”
Silence.
“Thomas shot him.”
“After Carlo threatened my pregnant mother.”
“Liar.”
“You're forty-one years old. You can read evidence yourself.”
“I saw Thomas shoot him.”
“You were sixteen.”
“He destroyed us.”
“Carlo took you into hiding.”
“He protected me.”
“He told everyone you died.”
Silence.
“He erased you.”
“No.”
“He changed your name. Your history. Your family. Then trained you to manage stolen money.”
“Stop.”
“He made you useful.”
“STOP.”
Good.
Emotion.
Reyes gestured to keep her talking.
I continued.
“Did Carlo ever ask what you wanted?”
Silence.
“Natalia?”
“You know nothing about my father.”
“I know he called you N in his journal.”
Breathing.
“Not Natalia. N.”
“Shut up.”
“Like an asset.”
The call disconnected.
Agents traced enough.
Industrial building near Newark.
They moved.
Nico was recovered alive.
Bruised.
Conscious.
Natalia was arrested.
No glamorous showdown.
No gun battle.
Just a woman standing beside a folding table covered in documents while agents ordered her to raise her hands.
She did.
That image stayed with me.
So much fear reduced to fluorescent lighting and zip ties.
Carlo was arrested too.
Anthony already faced trial.
The empire collapsed through evidence.
Not revenge.
That mattered.
Nico spent two days in hospital.
I visited once.
Not as girlfriend.
As human being.
His left eye was swollen.
He looked at me.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know you're alive.”
He nodded.
“Does that mean—”
“No.”
He almost smiled.
“I deserved that.”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“Getting kidnapped isn't punishment for betraying me.”
He stared.
“You don't have to turn every bad thing that happens to you into something you deserved.”
His eyes filled.
Maybe nobody had told him that.
Leo had raised Nico with a brutal moral accounting system.
Loyalty earned protection.
Disloyalty earned consequence.
Love earned debt.
Everything transactional.
The bet fit naturally into that worldview.
Ten thousand dollars.
A woman.
A conquest.
A debt.
An exchange.
I understood how Nico became Nico.
Again—
Understanding was not absolution.
“Get better.”
“Myra.”
“What?”
“I am sorry.”
“I know.”
“Will you ever forgive me?”
“Maybe.”
Hope.
“But forgiveness and reunion aren't the same thing.”
He nodded slowly.
“I know.”
This time, I believed he did.
Leo waited outside.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Coming.”
“Don't make it a debt.”
He smiled sadly.
“I'm trying.”
Good.
Carlo's arrest created chaos.
He wanted a deal.
Natalia wanted one too.
Father and daughter began blaming each other.
That was ugly.
Natalia discovered Carlo had prepared documents transferring CP Heritage away from her if he died.
Beneficiary?
Anthony.
She had spent decades believing she was Carlo's heir.
She was disposable too.
That realization broke something.
She cooperated.
Not redemption.
Self-preservation.
But truth does not care why someone finally tells it.
Natalia admitted Anthony shot Dad on Carlo's instructions.
Carlo knew Thomas had resurfaced.
He wanted the archive.
Anthony was supposed to abduct Dad.
Dad resisted.
Anthony shot him.
Nico witnessed part of it.
Then hid the weapon.
Chloe monitored me.
Natalia controlled hospital access.
A coordinated conspiracy.
“What about the bet?” prosecutors asked.
Natalia laughed.
“That wasn't planned.”
Of course.
Nico created that ugliness all by himself.
Oddly, that mattered to me.
I didn't want every cruelty explained by a mastermind.
Sometimes people simply make cruel choices.
Nico had.
Then there was another revelation.
Leo's father, Vittorio, knew Carlo survived.
Leo stared at the document.
“What?”
Before dying, Vittorio secretly sent Carlo money.
For years.
He protected one son while allowing the other to mourn him.
Why?
Family reputation.
A public Carlo threatened everything.
A dead Carlo could be controlled.
So Vittorio helped maintain the lie.
Leo's entire adulthood had been shaped by his father's deception.
He sat in his office after learning.
I happened to be there with Dad and prosecutors.
Leo whispered:
“He knew.”
Dad said nothing.
Leo looked at him.
“My father knew.”
“Yes.”
“I spent twenty-five years blaming myself for not seeing something he was actively hiding.”
Dad sat across from him.
“Welcome to the club.”
Leo laughed.
Then cried.
I had never seen him cry.
He covered his face.
No one moved to rescue him from the emotion.
He needed it.
Finally, Leo looked at Dad.
“I should've told you about Nico immediately.”
“Yes.”
“I should've gone to police when I learned Anthony was involved.”
“Yes.”
“I thought I could handle family privately.”
Dad nodded.
“That idea nearly killed both our children.”
Silence.
Then Leo extended his hand.
“No more debts.”
Dad looked at it.
Then shook.
“No more debts.”
That should have ended things.
It didn't.
Because federal accountants found one final transaction in the MYRA archive.
Twenty-seven years earlier.
$750,000.
Transferred from Carlo Casaro.
Recipient:
Margaret Bennett.
My mother.
I stared at the screen.
“Mom?”
She went completely pale.
Dad looked at her.
“Maggie?”
She closed her eyes.
May you like
And whispered:
“I can explain.”
