Chapter 10 - The Betrayal Inside Rico’s House
Every eye turned toward Dante.
The giant security chief slowly raised his hands.
“I didn’t open anything.”
Rico’s expression became unreadable.
“You’re the only person besides me with that code.”
“Then someone copied it.”
“How?”
Dante looked toward the security terminal.
Then realization struck him.
“Marco.”
Clara blinked.
“The restaurant manager?”
“He manages several properties,” Dante said. “He occasionally receives temporary access codes for maintenance.”
Rico called Il Destino.
No answer.
Then Clara remembered Marco trying to stop her from approaching Leo.
Trying to take her arm.
Handing her purse back.
“The key,” she said.
Everyone looked at her.
“Marco had my purse right before the hospital key fell out.”
Dante cursed.
“He planted it.”
Rico immediately ordered two men to find him.
A crash sounded downstairs.
Rico drew a pistol but kept it low and away from Leo.
Clara took the boy behind the desk.
Dante opened the study door.
A wounded security guard stumbled inside.
“Kitchen entrance,” he gasped. “Two men. Maybe three.”
Rico’s eyes went cold.
“Salvatore?”
The guard shook his head.
“Marco.”
Seconds later Marco’s voice called from the hall.
“Mr. Moretti! I only want the woman.”
Clara felt Leo grip her arm.
Rico stepped toward the doorway.
“You picked the wrong house.”
Marco laughed.
“No, Rico. You picked the wrong family.”
Elena’s face changed.
“What does that mean?”
Marco appeared at the far end of the hallway, keeping distance.
“I worked for your father before you learned to tie your shoes. Salvatore didn’t start this operation.”
Rico stiffened.
“My father did?”
Marco smiled.
“Ask Elena who really ordered the drive-by.”
Rico turned toward his wife.
Her face had gone pale.
“Tell me he’s lying.”
Elena whispered, “Rico…”
“Tell me.”
She began to cry.
“The order came from your father’s old account.”
Rico looked shattered.
His father had been dead for seven years.
“That’s impossible.”
Marco’s smile widened.
“Not if Giovanni Moretti is still alive.”
Then he threw a photograph across the hallway.
It slid to Rico’s feet.
An elderly man sat beside Salvatore.
May you like
The photograph had been taken three days earlier.
Rico stared at the face of the father whose coffin he had carried seven years ago.
