Chapter 3 - The Man Outside the Library Window
The figure did not run when Titan growled.
That frightened me more than if he had.
Dante killed the library lights.
Two guards moved toward the terrace.
I pulled Sophia behind the sofa.
Titan stayed between us and the glass.
Then the figure raised both hands.
“Elena.”
I knew the voice.
My brother.
“Marco?”
Dante looked at me.
“You know him?”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“That is my brother.”
“That is a man standing outside a secured mafia residence after someone threatened your daughter.”
He had a point.
I hated him for it.
Dante sent two men around the side.
Thirty seconds later, Marco Castillo entered through the library doors with his hands visible and rain on his jacket.
He looked thinner than I remembered.
Older.
Three years earlier, he had disappeared from Boston after our mother died.
Twenty thousand dollars from her estate disappeared with him.
I had not forgiven him.
So I slapped him.
The sound cracked through the room.
Marco touched his cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“You stole from Mom.”
“No.”
“You vanished.”
“Yes.”
“You never called.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Everyone can call.”
“Not if the people listening are the reason you ran.”
I stared.
He reached inside his coat slowly.
Dante’s men tensed.
Marco produced a flash drive.
“Our mother didn’t leave me twenty thousand dollars.”
“She left us thirty-eight.”
“She told me to take twenty and use it.”
“For what?”
“To follow Falcon.”
The room went quiet.
I laughed because the alternative was throwing something.
“My mother cleaned offices.”
“North Point offices.”
Mrs. Bellini sat down.
Marco looked at Dante.
“She found financial records while doing after-hours cleaning.”
“What records?”
“Payments from Falcon Therapeutics to shell companies. Some were normal laundering. Some weren’t.”
Dante inserted the drive into an isolated laptop.
There were hundreds of transactions.
Research payments.
Shipping invoices.
Private clinic transfers.
One recipient appeared repeatedly.
DR. ETHAN REYNOLDS.
Another:
SALVATORE BELLINI.
Mrs. Bellini covered her mouth.
I looked at Marco.
“Where are you on this?”
He opened another file.
M. CASTILLO.
My stomach dropped.
“You were paid.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To move packages.”
“You worked for Falcon?”
“Yes.”
“You told me you sold cars.”
“I told you what kept you uninvolved.”
I wanted to hit him again.
Instead I asked, “What was in the packages?”
“At first I thought samples.”
“And later?”
His face changed.
“Experimental compounds.”
Dante leaned over the screen.
“Human trials?”
“Not official ones.”
Sophia sat behind me quietly.
Too quietly.
I sent Mrs. Bellini upstairs with her before continuing.
Titan refused to go.
Sophia whispered into his ear and pointed at the doorway.
The dog followed.
Everyone watched.
Marco shook his head.
“That dog never listened to me.”
“You’re less charming than a five-year-old.”
“Fair.”
Dante opened another file.
Patient code V.M.
Vincent Moretti.
Another.
A.M.
Adrian.
I stared.
“They were experimenting on them?”
“Monitoring response,” Marco said.
“Same difference if they didn’t consent.”
Dante scrolled.
The documents were not medical charts.
They were contingency reports.
Blood pressure.
Neurologic response.
Recovery time.
Behavioral symptoms.
Then a legal document.
Moretti Family Continuity Trust.
If Adrian became medically incapacitated, temporary control of key legitimate holdings transferred to Vincent.
If both brothers were incapacitated, control passed to the emergency trustee.
Salvatore Bellini.
Motive.
Too easy.
I looked at Dante.
“You believe that?”
He frowned.
“It fits.”
“That’s why I don’t like it.”
Marco nodded.
“Neither did Vincent.”
Dante turned.
“You saw him?”
“Yesterday.”
“Where?”
“Can’t tell you.”
Dante stepped forward.
I moved between them.
“He is my brother.”
“Vincent is mine to protect.”
“You mean Adrian’s.”
Dante stopped.
Marco looked at me.
“Vincent figured out the seizures weren’t natural.”
“Seizures?”
“Six months. He thought they were stress.”
Dante swore softly.
“Why didn’t we know?”
“Because he stopped telling Adrian.”
That landed.
A brother who had once asked for help and been called paranoid eventually learned silence.
I thought of my own brother.
Same injury.
Different house.
Marco continued.
“Vincent switched one of his medications yesterday to see who would react.”
“The white falcon bottle?”
“Yes.”
“So Reynolds knew the bottle mattered.”
“Yes.”
“Was Adrian supposed to collapse?”
Marco shook his head.
“No. I think Adrian’s dose was a warning.”
“For who?”
“Vincent.”
The room went still.
Adrian had not been the target.
He had been the message.
Marco pulled up a second document.
A phrase appeared in several internal notes.
TWO KEYS REQUIRED.
Dante stared.
“What keys?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked toward Adrian’s study.
“But Vincent does.”
A crash sounded upstairs.
Titan barked.
We ran.
Adrian’s bedroom balcony door stood open.
A guard lay unconscious near the wall.
The safe had been opened.
Cash remained.
Jewelry remained.
One slot was empty.
Dante went pale.
“What was there?”
“Mr. Moretti’s signet ring.”
I frowned.
“All this for a ring?”
Marco looked toward the dark balcony.
“Not a ring.”
“A key.”
Dante stared at him.
“How do you know?”
Marco’s answer came quietly.
“Because Vincent has the other one.”
Before we went upstairs, Marco stopped me near the staircase.
“Elena.”
“What?”
“There’s something else.”
I almost laughed.
“There is always something else with you.”
He took the hit.
“Mom knew your name had been added to one of the shell ledgers.”
My stomach dropped.
“My name?”
“Not as a recipient. As a contingency.”
“For what?”
He looked ashamed.
“If anything happened to me, she wanted the evidence routed to you.”
I stared at him.
“So while I thought you were gambling away her money, you were carrying files that could get you killed?”
“Yes.”
“And you decided I should know none of it.”
“Yes.”
“That is not noble, Marco.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
His jaw tightened.
“I thought if you hated me, you’d stop looking for me.”
The answer hurt because I understood it.
Not because it was right.
Because I could imagine choosing the same terrible logic for Sophia.
I lowered my voice.
“You don’t get to turn my grief into part of your plan.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to call abandonment protection.”
“I know.”
“And if you ever disappear again without one honest sentence, I will personally find you and make Dante look gentle.”
For the first time, Marco smiled.
“There’s my sister.”
I almost smiled back.
May you like
Almost.
Then the crash sounded upstairs.
Related Stories
