Chapter 9 - The Boy Born After Midnight
Their son entered the world at 2:43 in the morning.
Five pounds, eleven ounces.
Small.
Angry.
Loud.
Perfect.
Jonathan stood beside the hospital bed staring at him.
Meline watched Jonathan more than the baby.
The nurse placed the child against her chest.
He stopped crying almost instantly.
Jonathan's eyes filled.
Meline noticed.
"You can touch him."
Jonathan did not move.
"Jonathan."
"What if—"
She smiled tiredly.
"He won't break."
Jonathan extended one finger.
The baby's tiny hand closed around it.
That was all.
Jonathan Moretti, feared by hundreds of men, began crying silently.
Meline looked away to give him dignity.
Then reconsidered.
"No."
He glanced at her.
"You don't get privacy for this."
A laugh escaped him through tears.
"Fair."
"What should we call him?"
Jonathan looked at her.
"You decide."
"That's suspiciously reasonable."
"I'm evolving."
"Slowly."
She looked at their son.
"I don't want Luca."
Jonathan understood.
Too much grief.
Too much expectation.
"Agreed."
"Daniel?"
"Your father."
Meline nodded.
Jonathan smiled.
"Daniel Moretti Donnelly."
She looked at him.
"Both?"
"If you want."
"I do."
"Then both."
Meline studied him.
"You would have fought about that a year ago."
"I would have been wrong."
"You keep saying things I don't know how to respond to."
"Enjoy it."
She smiled.
Outside the room, Teresa told everyone Daniel looked exactly like Jonathan.
Vivien disagreed.
Rocco claimed all newborns looked like angry old politicians.
Rebecca Shaw came by only long enough to say Dominic, Voss and Marco were all in custody.
Marco had formally agreed to cooperate.
"Does he get immunity?" Jonathan asked.
"No."
"Good."
Rebecca looked surprised.
"You want him punished."
"Yes."
"You also let Dominic live."
"Those are different."
Rebecca nodded.
"They are."
The criminal case became enormous.
Atlantic Meridian had stolen millions in cargo.
Dominic held a hidden ownership share.
Leonard Voss manipulated inspections and enforcement.
Marco falsified documents and created false trails.
Two city officials received bribes.
Salvatore Bianke had not participated directly, but had ignored suspicious transactions to protect his family's interests.
Vivien discovered that last part herself.
She confronted him.
"You knew something was wrong."
Salvatore sat behind his desk.
"I knew enough."
"Why didn't you stop it?"
"Because stopping it would have exposed our own operations."
Vivien stared at her father.
"Andrew was kidnapped."
"I know."
"Luca died."
"I know."
"Meline was nearly killed."
"I know."
"And your answer is reputation?"
"My answer is survival."
Vivien shook her head.
"No."
She removed a folder.
"What is that?"
"My resignation."
"From what?"
"Everything."
Salvatore laughed.
"You can't resign from being my daughter."
"No."
She placed keys on the desk.
"But I can resign from being your excuse."
Vivien surrendered her board roles.
She cooperated with investigators.
She took control of her trust legally and placed the Atlantic Meridian interest into restitution proceedings.
For the first time in her adult life, she chose something her father had not designed.
Jonathan watched her do it.
Then realized he needed to make the same choice.
The Moretti organization had legitimate businesses.
Transportation.
Restaurants.
Property.
Security.
It also had illegal gambling, extortion relationships and decades of corrupt arrangements.
Dominic's arrest exposed how vulnerable everything was.
Rocco asked Jonathan the question.
"What now?"
They sat in Jonathan's office.
His black notebooks lined one drawer.
Jonathan looked at them.
"We go legitimate."
Rocco laughed.
Then stopped.
"You're serious."
"Yes."
"You know how many people will hate that."
"Yes."
"How many make money from things we can't put on tax returns?"
"Too many."
"You're going to create enemies."
"I already have enemies."
Rocco rubbed his face.
"Your father would come out of the grave to hit you."
"My father is exactly why I'm doing it."
Jonathan looked toward a photograph of Daniel taped beside his desk.
His son.
His responsibility.
"I won't spend twenty years telling that boy violence is necessary because nobody ever had the courage to stop."
Rocco studied him.
"You think you can simply announce we're legitimate?"
"No."
"Then?"
"We unwind."
Some businesses sold.
Some closed.
Debts paid.
Illegal arrangements ended.
Dangerous men received legal severance and warnings.
A few resisted.
Jonathan did not threaten them.
That confused people more than threats would have.
One lieutenant named Carlo said, "You're destroying the Moretti name."
Jonathan answered, "Then build something better with yours."
Six weeks after Daniel's birth, Meline returned to the flower shop.
Jonathan arrived carrying the baby.
He looked absurd.
Black suit.
Baby carrier.
Diaper bag.
Meline laughed so hard she had to sit down.
"What?"
"You look like someone kidnapped a banker and gave him an infant."
Jonathan looked at Daniel.
"I think we're doing well."
Daniel spit milk onto his father's tie.
Meline laughed harder.
Jonathan stared at the stain.
"This tie cost four hundred dollars."
"Daniel doesn't respect money."
"Clearly."
They had not resumed their relationship.
Jonathan did not ask.
He visited.
Helped.
Changed diapers badly, then better.
Attended pediatric appointments.
Never arrived without asking first.
It was perhaps the hardest discipline he had ever learned.
Permission.
One afternoon, while Daniel slept, Meline arranged roses.
Jonathan watched.
"Can I ask something?"
"You just did."
He smiled.
"Another thing."
"Fine."
"Will you ever forgive me?"
Her hands stopped.
Jonathan immediately regretted asking.
Meline placed the scissors down.
"I don't know."
He nodded.
"Okay."
"That isn't the same as never."
"I know."
"And it isn't the same as yes."
"I know."
She looked at him.
"I need to know you're changing because you believe the old life was wrong."
"Not because you want me back."
"Exactly."
Jonathan breathed out.
"I'm trying."
"I see that."
It was the closest thing to hope she had offered.
Jonathan accepted it.
Then the shop door opened.
A courier entered carrying a long white box.
"For Ms. Donnelly."
Meline frowned.
She hadn't ordered anything.
Jonathan immediately became alert.
The courier left.
Jonathan opened the box carefully.
Inside lay one white rose.
And an envelope.
No threats.
No photographs.
Just a letter.
Written by Marco Vitali.
Meline's face hardened.
Jonathan read aloud.
Meline,
I cannot undo what I did.
I can tell you one thing nobody else knows.
Luca left another message.
Not in the ledger.
For Jonathan.
I hid it because Dominic told me to.
If Jonathan wants the truth about his brother's last night, tell him to open Notebook Eleven.
Page 143.
Jonathan stopped breathing.
Notebook Eleven.
One of his own black notebooks.
Written four years earlier.
He had never noticed anything unusual.
That evening, Jonathan unlocked the drawer.
Found Notebook Eleven.
Opened to page 143.
His handwriting filled the top half.
The bottom half belonged to Luca.
Written in a different pen.
Jonathan,
If you're reading this because something happened to me, then I failed.
Don't avenge me.
That's what they expect.
Find out who profits when you get angry.
And please, for once in your life, choose the person you love over the people who flatter your pride.
Jonathan read the final sentence three times.
Then sat alone in the dark.
May you like
His dead brother had known him better than he knew himself.
And somehow Luca's last advice had predicted Meline.
