Chapter 10 - Pier Forty-Seven
The pier smelled of salt, diesel, and old wood.
Midnight turned the East River black.
Amelia walked toward Warehouse Four alone.
At least that was what Raymond was supposed to believe.
A tiny transmitter sat beneath her collar.
Evelyn had contacted federal agents.
Vincent’s men stayed farther back.
Nobody trusted anyone completely.
That was probably healthy.
Inside, Angela sat tied to a chair.
Her lip was split.
Otherwise she looked unharmed.
When she saw Amelia, fury replaced fear.
“What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you?”
“I’m seventy-one years old. I have lived in Brooklyn my whole life. I do not need a waitress rescue operation.”
Amelia nearly laughed.
Raymond stepped from behind a shipping container.
“Still charming.”
Every muscle in Amelia’s body tightened.
He wore a dark coat and gloves.
No visible weapon.
Which meant one existed.
“Let her go.”
“The drive.”
“Let her go first.”
Raymond smiled.
“You learned negotiation.”
“I learned not to trust you.”
“That took long enough.”
Amelia reached inside her coat.
Raymond’s hand moved.
She stopped.
“Slowly.”
She removed the drive.
Held it up.
Raymond stared at it.
Three years.
His obsession compressed into something smaller than her thumb.
“Throw it.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“You don’t make rules here.”
“I’m holding the thing you need.”
Angela said, “That sounds like leverage to me.”
Raymond glared at her.
Angela shrugged despite the ropes.
“What? You kidnapped me. I don’t owe manners.”
Amelia fought a smile.
“Untie her.”
Raymond approached Angela.
He cut the rope around one wrist.
Then the other.
Angela stood slowly.
“Walk toward Amelia.”
Angela did.
Halfway across the warehouse, a second man stepped from behind a container.
Derek.
Amelia froze.
He held a gun.
Raymond smiled.
“You really are predictable.”
Angela reached Amelia.
“Go,” Amelia whispered.
“No.”
“Angela.”
“I’m old, not stupid.”
Derek’s hands shook.
Amelia noticed.
So did Raymond.
“Point it at them,” Raymond ordered.
Derek obeyed badly.
Amelia looked at him.
“Nikki is safe.”
His eyes flickered.
“Shut up.”
“Raymond tried to kill you.”
“I said shut up.”
“He already used you once.”
Raymond sighed.
“This is exhausting.”
He pulled his own pistol.
Derek’s face changed.
Raymond aimed—not at Amelia.
At Derek.
A gunshot cracked.
Derek dropped.
Angela screamed.
Amelia ducked.
The transmitter under her collar suddenly felt useless.
Where were the agents?
Raymond grabbed Amelia’s arm.
“Move.”
She twisted instinctively.
His fingers tightened exactly where they used to.
Her body froze.
For one terrible second, six years disappeared.
Kitchen.
Apartment.
Broken glass.
Raymond’s face inches from hers.
You made me do this.
Then Angela shouted, “Amelia!”
The warehouse returned.
Amelia drove her heel down onto Raymond’s foot.
He cursed.
She ripped free.
The pistol swung toward her.
A second shot exploded.
Raymond’s gun flew from his hand.
Vincent stood near the loading door.
Smoke curled from the weapon in Marco’s hand beside him.
Marco had shot the pistol itself—or close enough to make Raymond drop it.
Federal agents rushed through another entrance.
“Hands!”
“Down!”
Chaos filled the warehouse.
Raymond dove behind a crate.
Salvatore appeared from the upper catwalk.
Vincent saw him.
“Uncle.”
Salvatore fired.
Vincent pulled Amelia behind a forklift.
Agents returned fire toward the railing.
Salvatore disappeared.
Raymond crawled toward his gun.
Derek, bleeding from the shoulder, reached it first.
Everyone froze.
Raymond stared at him.
“Give me the gun.”
Derek laughed painfully.
“You shot me.”
“You failed me.”
“You told me we were partners.”
“You were an employee.”
Derek looked at Amelia.
The woman he had knocked unconscious.
Then at Raymond.
Slowly, he pushed the gun away from both of them.
An agent rushed forward and secured it.
For the first time, Derek made the correct decision.
Raymond ran.
Amelia saw him disappear through a side door.
“Vincent!”
Vincent moved after him.
She grabbed his coat.
“Salvatore.”
He stopped.
She pointed upward.
A shadow moved along the catwalk.
Vincent looked between the exits.
Raymond.
Salvatore.
Two men responsible for his family’s destruction.
Then Angela.
Derek bleeding.
Amelia beside him.
Vincent made a choice.
He stayed.
Federal agents chased Raymond.
Marco went after Salvatore.
Vincent crouched beside Derek.
“Ambulance!”
Derek stared up at him.
“You’re helping me?”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
Derek laughed and winced.
Amelia looked toward the warehouse door.
Raymond had escaped.
Again.
Anger rose.
Then something quieter.
He was running now.
Not her.
The reversal mattered.
Agents freed Angela completely.
Vincent looked at Amelia.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
His hands were shaking.
She noticed.
“You?”
“Fine.”
“You’re lying.”
“Probably.”
Sirens approached.
Then Marco returned.
Alone.
Vincent understood.
“Sal?”
“Gone.”
“How?”
“Boat waiting beneath the south dock.”
Vincent cursed.
An agent ran inside.
“We found Fletcher’s car.”
“Where is he?”
“Not there.”
Amelia felt disappointment.
Then the agent continued.
“But we found this in the trunk.”
He held up a briefcase.
Inside were passports.
Cash.
And three airline tickets.
Raymond Fletcher.
Salvatore Castellano.
And a third name.
Amelia Hart.
She stared.
“What?”
The agent examined the passport.
Her photograph.
Her date of birth.
Fake travel history.
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“They were planning to take you.”
Amelia looked toward the dark river.
Not kill her.
Not immediately.
Take her.
Make it appear she fled with them.
A criminal accomplice disappearing voluntarily.
Raymond was still trying to write her story.
She took the passport from the agent.
Then tore it in half.
“This is the last identity he makes for me.”
Vincent watched her.
The warehouse door opened again.
Another agent entered quickly.
“We got Fletcher.”
Amelia froze.
“Where?”
“End of the pier.”
Her heart began pounding.
“Can I see him?”
The agent hesitated.
Evelyn appeared from behind the federal team.
“No.”
Amelia looked at her.
“You’re my lawyer.”
“Exactly.”
“I need to see him.”
“Why?”
Amelia looked toward Vincent.
Then back.
“To know he’s really caught.”
Five minutes later, Raymond was led past in handcuffs.
His expensive coat was torn.
Blood marked one eyebrow.
He saw Amelia.
Stopped.
“This isn’t over.”
Amelia waited for the old fear.
It came.
But smaller.
Manageable.
She stepped closer without crossing the police line.
“Yes, it is.”
Raymond smiled bitterly.
“You think Castellano loves you?”
Vincent stood ten feet away.
Amelia did not look at him.
“This was never about whether another man loves me.”
Raymond’s smile faded.
Amelia continued.
“That’s what you never understood.”
Agents pulled him forward.
He twisted around.
“You’ll always be looking over your shoulder.”
Amelia shook her head.
“No.”
For the first time in six years, she meant it.
“You will.”
Raymond disappeared into the night.
But Salvatore remained free.
May you like
And the most dangerous man left in the story was no longer Amelia’s ex.
He was Vincent’s blood.
