Chapter 12 - THE DEAD MAN RUNNING CHICAGO
Jack stared at the screen.
His father, Anthony Moretti, had supposedly died six years earlier.
Yet the recording showed him alive three years ago.
And now everything began to make sense.
The fake deaths.
The altered medical reports.
Marco's return.
The hidden financial empire.
Someone had spent years making powerful people disappear whenever their identities became inconvenient.
“Play it,” Jack said.
The video began.
Anthony Moretti stood in the warehouse beside Samuel Price.
Isabella sat tied to a chair.
Marco Voss stood near the door.
“You should've stayed out of the accounts,” Anthony told her.
Isabella lifted her chin.
“You stole from families who trusted you.”
Anthony smiled coldly.
“I built those families.”
“You built an empire on fear.”
“Fear works.”
Jack's hands clenched.
On the recording, Isabella leaned forward.
“Jack isn't like you.”
Anthony laughed.
“My son thinks love makes him stronger. It makes him easy to control.”
Then Price placed a black bag on the table.
Inside was the original verification device.
Isabella stared at it.
“That contains everything.”
“Not anymore,” Price replied.
The recording suddenly shook.
A child's toy rolled across the floor.
My heart stopped.
Noah's robot.
It had been recording.
Not because anyone intended it to.
But because someone had hidden the original camera inside it.
The picture shifted toward the entrance.
And there stood my father.
Thomas Bennett.
He carried a small boy in his arms.
A child whose face was hidden against his shoulder.
I stared.
“That can't be Noah.”
Jack nodded.
“No. The timing doesn't fit.”
Thomas passed the child to a woman outside the camera's view.
Then returned.
“Let Isabella go,” he pleaded.
Anthony stepped toward him.
“You should have stayed dead, Thomas.”
My father didn't move.
“If you hurt either of my daughters, I'll release every record.”
The screen went black.
A message appeared.
UPLOAD INTERRUPTED. BACKUP FILE STORED OFFLINE.
Rocco checked the metadata.
“The remaining video may be inside the original verification pen.”
Jack looked toward the window.
“Then we need that pen.”
I turned to him.
“But Marco has it.”
“Not anymore.”
Jack opened his desk drawer.
Inside lay the silver pen from the restaurant.
I stared.
“When did you get that?”
“While everyone was worried about the spilled coffee.”
He looked at me.
“You gave me an opportunity. I took it.”
Rocco connected the pen to the computer.
A final encrypted recording appeared.
It showed Isabella escaping through the warehouse's rear entrance.
She carried a small child.
A frightened little girl.
The camera caught the girl's face for one second.
She had dark curls and large brown eyes.
Jack went pale.
“That's impossible.”
“Who is she?” I whispered.
Jack gripped the desk.
May you like
When he finally answered, his voice broke.
“My daughter.”
