Chapter 6 - THE VAULT THAT COULD DESTROY THE MORETTI FAMILY
The key opened a private vault beneath Grand Central Terminal.
That sentence sounded insane.
It was still true.
The vault belonged to an old private banking company that had once serviced criminal families, politicians, industrialists, and people wealthy enough to make questions disappear.
Elena had rented box 417 under an alias.
Inside:
Three ledgers.
A videotape.
A sealed envelope.
And forty-seven photographs.
Dante opened the first ledger.
His expression changed immediately.
“What?”
“Payments.”
“To whom?”
He looked at me.
“Judges. Detectives. Customs officers. Federal contractors.”
Rachel swore.
“These are Vittorio’s accounts?”
“Some.”
“What about the rest?”
Dante turned another page.
The transactions continued after Vittorio’s supposed death.
For four years.
Then stopped.
Marco Bellini Sr. had continued the operation.
Meaning he had not merely helped Vittorio.
He had inherited part of the empire.
Rachel pointed toward another name.
“Who is A.M.?”
Dante became still.
I noticed.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“My uncle.”
Antonio Moretti.
Dante’s father’s younger brother.
Respected businessman.
Charity donor.
And, according to Dante, the man who had advised him to dismantle Vittorio’s trafficking operations after taking control.
“If this is real…”
Rachel finished for him.
“Your uncle played both sides.”
Dante looked sick.
The videotape was worse.
Elena appeared.
Older.
Bruised.
But alive.
“If my daughters see this, I failed to survive long enough to tell you myself.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
Elena explained that Vittorio’s organization had not primarily trafficked drugs.
It trafficked information.
Blackmail.
Compromising records.
Medical files.
Affairs.
Secret bank accounts.
Enough leverage to control powerful people.
“Antonio Moretti runs it now.”
Dante closed his eyes.
Then Elena said:
“And Dante does not know.”
He stared at the screen.
“I watched him grow up. Whatever Vittorio became, Dante resisted it.”
I looked toward him.
Elena continued:
“If he still has Orion’s line, trust the dog before you trust the men around him.”
Orion lifted his head at his name.
Rachel almost laughed through tears.
Then Elena’s expression became urgent.
“Antonio is searching for one final file. I hid it outside the vault.”
Dante leaned closer.
“It proves who ordered the fire that killed Olivia’s adoptive mother.”
My blood froze.
Laura had died in a house fire three years ago.
Firefighters called it electrical.
I stopped breathing.
“No.”
Rachel grabbed my hand.
Elena continued.
“The person responsible is someone Olivia already knows.”
My throat closed.
Then the tape cut out.
No name.
Nothing.
I stared at the blank screen.
My phone vibrated.
A text from my restaurant manager.
OLIVIA, THERE’S A MAN HERE ASKING FOR YOU.
Then a photograph.
My manager had secretly taken it from behind the bar.
I knew the man.
Of course I did.
He was Anthony Marshall.
My mother’s older brother.
My uncle.
May you like
The man who had helped arrange Laura’s funeral.
And on his right hand was the same ring worn by one of Vittorio Moretti’s men in Elena’s photographs.
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