Chapter 8 - The Man Inside the Family
Jonathan called Teresa.
No answer.
Meline.
No answer.
Rocco.
No answer.
His car crossed Providence at ninety miles an hour.
Vivien sat beside him.
"You won't think clearly if you panic."
"My mother and Meline are in that house."
"I know."
"My child."
"I know."
"Then stop talking."
Vivien did.
When they reached Teresa's street, the two security cars were empty.
Jonathan's stomach dropped.
Front door open.
Lights on.
He entered first.
"Ma?"
No answer.
Dining room empty.
Kitchen empty.
A broken cup lay on the floor.
Vivien found blood near the back door.
"Jonathan."
He looked.
Not much.
Enough.
His phone rang.
Dominic Moretti.
Jonathan answered.
"Where are they?"
His uncle laughed softly.
"You always skipped hello."
"Where are they?"
"Safe."
"Let me hear them."
A pause.
Then Teresa's voice.
"Jonathan?"
"Ma."
"I'm fine."
"Meline?"
Another voice.
Meline.
"I'm here."
His knees nearly weakened.
Dominic returned.
"You see? I am not a monster."
Jonathan looked around his mother's kitchen.
"Where?"
"Pier Nine."
Of course.
Where Luca had first found the lie.
Dominic continued.
"Come alone."
"No."
"Then your mother and your girl become unfortunate."
Jonathan's voice hardened.
"She's pregnant."
"I know."
"With my son."
"I know."
"Then you understand what happens if you touch her."
Dominic laughed.
"That sentence right there is why Luca never trusted you with the truth."
Jonathan stopped.
"You killed him."
Silence.
Then Dominic sighed.
"Luca killed himself."
"Wrong answer."
"He believed morality could survive our family."
"You killed him."
"He forced a decision."
Jonathan gripped the phone.
"Why Atlantic Meridian?"
"Money."
At least Dominic was honest.
"That's it?"
"No."
His voice changed.
"Freedom."
"From what?"
"From your father."
Jonathan frowned.
"My father is dead."
"He wasn't when this started."
Dominic had spent his life beneath older brother Antonio Moretti.
Antonio inherited leadership.
Dominic handled dirty work.
Antonio received loyalty.
Dominic received orders.
When Antonio died, Jonathan inherited authority.
Again, Dominic remained second.
"I built half this family," Dominic said.
"And watched boys inherit everything because their fathers were born before me."
"So you robbed your own organization."
"I diversified."
"You murdered Luca."
"Luca found out."
Jonathan closed his eyes.
"Pier Nine."
"One hour."
The line died.
Rocco arrived five minutes later.
He had been checking a suspicious car when men attacked him.
Bruised, furious, alive.
Rebecca brought federal teams.
Jonathan objected.
Then stopped himself.
Old Jonathan would have entered Pier Nine alone.
Gun in hand.
Ready to trade violence for violence.
Meline did not need old Jonathan.
Neither did his child.
They planned.
At Pier Nine, Teresa sat tied to a chair.
She seemed more irritated than afraid.
Meline sat beside her.
Dominic paced.
"You should have retired," Teresa told him.
Dominic glared.
"You always hated me."
"I disliked your manners."
"You worshiped Antonio."
"I married Antonio."
"Same thing."
Meline whispered, "Mrs. Moretti?"
"Yes?"
"Maybe stop provoking the kidnapper."
Teresa smiled.
"I am seventy years old. I have waited decades to tell Dominic what I think."
Dominic turned.
"Quiet."
Teresa rolled her eyes.
Meline almost laughed.
Then pain tightened across her abdomen.
She inhaled sharply.
Teresa noticed.
"Contraction?"
"No."
"That was not a no."
"Stress."
"How close?"
Meline checked the clock.
"Twenty minutes since the last one."
Teresa's expression changed.
"Dominic."
"What?"
"She may be in labor."
Dominic stared at Meline's stomach.
"Not my problem."
Teresa's voice became ice.
"If my grandson is born on a warehouse floor because of you, Jonathan will not be your biggest problem."
Even Dominic looked uncertain.
Outside, Jonathan approached alone.
Visible.
Unarmed.
Dominic watched through cameras.
Jonathan entered the warehouse.
His uncle stood twenty feet away.
A gun rested against Teresa's chair.
Jonathan's eyes found Meline.
She looked terrified.
Alive.
That was enough.
"You wanted me."
Dominic smiled.
"Eventually you learn."
"What do you want?"
"Your signatures."
"On what?"
"Transfer documents."
Dominic gestured toward a table.
Atlantic Meridian ownership.
Moretti terminal leases.
Shipping contracts.
If Jonathan signed, Dominic could consolidate enough legitimate assets to disappear rich.
"You think those signatures survive federal review?"
"They only need to survive twelve hours."
"Why?"
"Because a ship leaves tonight."
"What ship?"
Dominic smiled.
"The last shipment."
Jonathan understood.
Evidence.
Money.
Perhaps both.
He walked toward the table.
Meline looked at him.
"Don't."
Dominic aimed the gun toward her.
Jonathan stopped.
"I'll sign."
Meline's face tightened.
"No."
He looked at her.
For once, Jonathan Moretti did not communicate control.
Only trust.
"Let me."
Dominic slid papers forward.
Jonathan picked up the pen.
Outside, Rebecca waited.
Rocco waited.
Vivien monitored warehouse cameras hacked through the port system.
Jonathan signed the first page.
Second.
Third.
Then the lights went out.
Dominic shouted.
Emergency lights flashed.
Federal agents entered from three sides.
Gunfire cracked once.
Then twice.
Jonathan moved toward Meline.
Dominic grabbed Teresa.
Teresa slammed her heel down on his foot.
Dominic cursed.
She elbowed him.
Jonathan reached them.
He knocked the weapon aside.
Rocco tackled Dominic before Jonathan could do more.
For a split second, Dominic lay helpless.
Jonathan stood above him.
Every Moretti tradition demanded an ending.
Dominic expected it.
"Do it."
Jonathan looked down.
Then looked at Meline.
She was holding her stomach.
Terrified.
Watching him.
Jonathan stepped back.
"No."
Dominic laughed.
"Weak."
Jonathan shook his head.
"No."
Federal agents cuffed Dominic.
"I'm done letting men like you decide what strength looks like."
Then Meline cried out.
Jonathan turned.
"My water broke."
Teresa closed her eyes.
"Again?"
Meline almost laughed through tears.
"This time for real."
Jonathan rushed toward her.
Outside the warehouse, police lights covered Pier Nine.
Dominic shouted curses as agents dragged him away.
Jonathan heard none of it.
Because Meline gripped his hand and whispered, "He's coming."
"Who?"
"Our son, idiot."
May you like
For once, Jonathan Moretti had no plan.
And nobody in the warehouse had ever seen him look happier to be completely powerless.
