Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO REWROTE A DEAD MAN'S VOICE
By sunrise, Dante’s security team had isolated seven cuts in the recording.
Seven.
Talia listened to them twice.
Her anger became something colder.
Someone had taken her father’s voice and built a lie.
But the most disturbing discovery came from the flash drive.
Half the files were encrypted.
The other half contained names.
Detectives.
Customs officials.
Lawyers.
Business owners.
People who had been quietly feeding information to a criminal organization called Cross Meridian.
Talia knew the name.
Everyone in New York shipping knew it.
A supposedly legitimate logistics empire run by Lucian Cross.
Dante entered the room carrying two coffees.
“My family has been fighting Cross for eleven years.”
“You mean shooting at each other.”
“Sometimes lawyers are more expensive.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Dante set down the cup.
“My father spent his last years moving us into legitimate businesses. Cross didn’t like that.”
“Why?”
“Because criminal empires survive when everyone stays criminal.”
Talia studied the list.
“My mother found this?”
“I think she found the network behind it.”
“And whoever killed her wanted the evidence.”
“Yes.”
Talia clicked another file.
A distorted audio clip played.
One voice belonged to Vincent.
The other belonged to someone named Lucian.
She froze.
“You recognize him?”
“No.”
Dante did.
“Lucian Cross.”
On the recording, Cross promised protection in exchange for “the second ledger.”
Vincent refused.
Then the clip ended.
Talia looked at Dante.
“If Cross wanted the ledger fifteen years ago, why is he still looking?”
“Because your mother hid it well.”
Dante’s phone buzzed.
Mateo had sent information about the altered recorder.
The editing software had been registered to an office inside Cross Meridian headquarters.
Talia leaned back.
“So Cross wanted me to believe you killed my mother.”
“Which means he expected you to find the vault.”
“Which means he knew about Noah’s key.”
They looked at each other.
Someone close to them was feeding Cross information.
Dante’s phone rang again.
This time, it was his chief of security.
“Boss, we found the shooter from Belluno’s.”
“Alive?”
“No.”
“Identification?”
A pause.
“His phone is clean, but we recovered one text.”
Dante read the message sent less than an hour before the attack.
MAKE THE GIRL RUN TO MARCHELLI.
Talia stared at the words.
The attack had never been designed to kill her.
May you like
It had been designed to force her into Dante’s protection.
And someone had known exactly how both of them would react.
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