Chapter 2 - My Sister Put Our Disabled Father on a Private Jet to Steal His Fortune—But the Mafia Boss Found the One Thing Matteo Never Expected Walter to Leave BehindThe private jet never left Chicago.
Federal authorities stopped it twelve minutes before departure.
Walter was found in the rear cabin wearing his winter coat over pajamas, wheelchair locked incorrectly against the cabin wall.
He was furious.
Not confused.
Not helpless.
Furious.
Deline claimed she had been taking him on a surprise vacation.
Walter's tablet said otherwise.
“Kidnapped.”
One word.
The officer interviewing Deline asked whether Walter understood the meaning.
Walter typed:
“I was a forensic accountant for thirty-seven years. I understand kidnapping.”
Simone almost laughed.
Then she cried.
She knelt beside father.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did anyone touch you?”
“Matteo grabbed arm.”
Julian stood several feet away.
He did not interfere.
Police photographed bruise.
Matteo wasn't on plane.
Passenger manifest was deception.
Deline had arrived with Walter.
Matteo disappeared.
Deline's arrogance cracked.
“He told me he would meet us.”
Simone stared.
“You took Dad out of rehabilitation because Matteo told you?”
“He said we needed leave.”
“Why?”
Deline looked toward detectives.
“I want lawyer.”
Walter typed:
“Coward.”
Deline flinched.
That hurt her.
Good.
Simone hated thinking that.
Still did.
Deline was arrested on suspicion of elder financial exploitation and unlawful restraint.
Released pending charges later.
Matteo became fugitive.
Meanwhile missing ledger remained.
Simone's apartment had been destroyed.
Mattress cut.
Cabinets emptied.
Family photographs smashed.
But one thing untouched.
Her father's old wooden chessboard.
Walter had taught both daughters.
Deline hated game.
Simone loved.
At apartment, Julian remained doorway until Simone invited.
“Come in.”
He entered.
No touching evidence.
No issuing orders.
Growth.
Simone picked up chessboard.
Something rattled.
She turned.
Hidden compartment.
Inside small brass key.
Walter smiled when shown.
“Bank.”
Safe-deposit box.
Inside:
Two external drives.
Three notebooks.
Copies of shell-company transactions.
And letter addressed:
SIMONE.
She read.
Her father had known stroke risk after transient ischemic attacks.
He had continued investigating Matteo Valenti before Deline ever met him.
That stopped her.
“Before?”
Walter nodded.
Matteo hadn't fallen in love with Deline accidentally.
He targeted her.
Why?
Access.
Walter's audit had found twenty-two million dollars missing from Marzano legitimate construction subsidiaries.
Money moved through vendors linked to Matteo.
Walter intended report.
Then stroke.
Matteo learned Walter had daughters.
He approached Deline at charity gala.
Romance.
Engagement.
Wedding.
All engineered.
Deline may have begun as target.
Then accomplice.
Simone felt sick.
Julian looked through copies with attorney.
“Matteo has been inside my organization for seven years.”
“How?”
“Subcontractor. Political fundraising. Hotels.”
“Did you trust him?”
“Yes.”
That cost him.
“Is this connected to Elena?”
Julian froze.
“What?”
“Your fiancée.”
He looked away.
“Possibly.”
Elena Russo had been prosecutor's daughter? Better: financial attorney for Marzano legitimate empire. She noticed same discrepancies.
She died before completing audit.
Walter had replaced her quietly.
Simone realized.
“Matteo killed her?”
“We don't know.”
Julian's jaw tightened.
“But you think so.”
“Yes.”
“You want to kill him.”
Not question.
“Yes.”
“Will you?”
Julian looked.
Old Julian would say yes.
Instead:
“No.”
“Because police?”
“Because you asked me to choose differently.”
Simone shook head.
“Don't do it for me.”
He frowned.
“If your morality depends on keeping me, then first time I disappoint you, you'll become old man again.”
That hit.
Julian nodded slowly.
“Then I'll do it because I'm tired of burying people.”
Better.
They delivered evidence to federal investigators.
Walter insisted.
Morello—Marzano legitimate businesses froze suspicious accounts.
Matteo's network began collapse.
Deline came to Simone two days later.
No makeup.
Designer coat gone.
Eyes swollen.
“I need help.”
Simone almost closed door.
“With what?”
“Matteo emptied our joint accounts.”
“Our?”
“My accounts.”
“You mean Dad's.”
Deline flinched.
“I made mistakes.”
“You stole.”
“He told me Dad wanted me to have it.”
“Dad literally said no.”
“I thought you manipulated him.”
“Why?”
“Because he always preferred you.”
Simone stared.
There it was.
Childhood poison.
“Dad didn't prefer me.”
“He trusted you.”
“Because I showed up.”
Deline's eyes filled.
“I showed up too.”
“For photographs.”
“That isn't fair.”
“Neither was pulling my chair.”
Silence.
Deline whispered:
“I hated you.”
“I know.”
“After Dad's stroke, everyone praised you.”
Because Simone left accounting job to manage appointments.
Moved closer.
Learned transfer techniques.
Insurance forms.
Speech tablet.
Deline visited when convenient.
“But you always looked like good daughter.”
“I was exhausted.”
“You made me feel useless.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn't have to.”
Simone breathed.
“Your shame isn't evidence of my cruelty.”
Deline looked down.
Powerful sentence.
She cried.
Matteo had told Deline Simone planned to take entire inheritance.
Fed insecurity.
Encouraged financial transfers.
Deline knew some money wasn't hers.
But rationalized.
She was victim and participant.
Both could be true.
“Will you help me?”
“Tell authorities everything.”
“I'll go prison.”
“Maybe.”
“You'd let that happen?”
Simone stared.
“I won't destroy evidence to protect you.”
Deline looked devastated.
Then angry.
Then tired.
Finally:
“Will you come with me?”
“To lawyer?”
“Yes.”
Simone considered.
“I'll sit in waiting room.”
Deline nodded.
That was beginning.
Not forgiveness.
Beginning.
Julian waited outside courthouse later.
“Why are you here?”
“Coffee.”
He held cup.
“You're becoming predictable.”
“Terrifying.”
They walked.
“You did good,” he said.
“Don't grade me.”
“Right.”
She smiled.
“You did okay too.”
“High praise.”
He stopped.
“Dinner?”
“Is this date?”
“Yes.”
“Are there guns?”
“Hopefully not.”
“Police?”
“Hopefully not.”
“Fraud?”
“It's Chicago.”
She laughed.
“Yes.”
First date was quiet restaurant.
Not his.
Simone insisted split check.
Julian argued once.
Lost.
He asked about her life before father stroke.
She had been forensic data analyst.
Wanted open consulting firm.
Delayed.
Not abandoned.
Julian talked about Elena.
He had loved her.
Not perfectly.
Had been possessive.
Controlling.
Thought security meant decisions.
“She used to tell me I confused keeping someone alive with letting them live.”
Simone looked.
“She was right.”
“Yes.”
“You still do it.”
“I know.”
“Why tell me?”
“Because if we do this, you deserve know what you're getting.”
“Dinner isn't engagement.”
“I know.”
“You announced engagement first.”
“Historic tactical error.”
“Massive.”
He smiled.
At end, he didn't kiss.
Asked:
“May I?”
Simone looked at him.
“No.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
She walked three steps.
Turned.
“Ask next time.”
His smile followed her home.
Three weeks later Matteo resurfaced.
Not physically.
A video.
Walter in old audit office before stroke.
Recorded conversation with Matteo.
Matteo threatened daughters.
One accident already happened. Another can.
Julian recognized date.
Day before Walter stroke.
Simone stared.
“You think stroke wasn't natural?”
Medical records showed anticoagulant levels dangerously abnormal.
Walter had been taking medication.
Someone tampered.
Deline had access?
No.
Matteo did through nurse contractor he recommended.
Federal investigators reopened.
Contract nurse confessed she switched medication for cash, believing dose change harmless.
Matteo ordered.
Attempted murder.
Simone sat beside Walter.
“Did you know?”
His eyes filled.
“Suspected.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Protect.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You too?”
Walter looked ashamed.
“Sorry.”
She squeezed hand.
“No more secrets.”
“No more.”
Then building fire alarm sounded.
Hospital? rehab facility.
Smoke.
Security moved.
Julian arrived? Need suspense.
Simone wheeled Walter toward emergency exit.
In stairwell a man in maintenance uniform appeared.
He reached under jacket.
Simone recognized him from wedding vendor photos.
Matteo associate.
She pushed Walter behind fire door.
Man grabbed her.
Simone fought.
Julian's security? Better police surveillance officer intervenes, not Julian superhero.
An undercover federal agent assigned after threats tackled man.
Gun recovered.
Fire alarm deliberately triggered.
Message from Matteo:
GIVE ME THE DRIVES OR NEXT TIME NO ONE STOPS IT.
Simone stared.
Julian arrived twenty minutes later.
Saw bruise on wrist.
Rage.
He turned away.
Called someone.
Simone heard:
“Find Matteo.”
She grabbed phone.
“No.”
Julian looked.
“Don't.”
“He came for you.”
“And authorities are hunting him.”
“He almost—”
“I know.”
His breathing heavy.
“You promised.”
“I promised I wouldn't kill him.”
“What were you about to order?”
Silence.
“Julian.”
“I was going to have him taken.”
“And?”
He couldn't answer.
She stepped back.
“Then we're done.”
Pain crossed face.
“Simone.”
“No.”
“I didn't do it.”
“Because I stopped you.”
He looked destroyed.
“That isn't enough.”
“No.”
She walked.
This time he didn't follow.
Two weeks passed.
No calls.
Then federal agent contacted Simone.
Julian had turned over entire private intelligence file on Matteo.
Also admitted planned unlawful surveillance operations.
No retaliation.
No abduction.
He withdrew.
Not for her to witness.
Because choice.
That mattered.
Then Deline called at 1:03 a.m.
Whispering.
“Simone.”
“What?”
“He's here.”
“Who?”
“Matteo.”
Simone sat up.
“Where are you?”
“My apartment.”
“Get out.”
“He has gun.”
Simone's blood froze.
“Deline, don't hang up.”
A man's voice came through.
“Hello, Simone.”
Matteo.
“Bring me the original ledger.”
“I don't have it.”
“Then ask your boyfriend.”
“He isn't my boyfriend.”
Matteo laughed.
“Tell Marzano he has forty minutes.”
Deline cried.
Then call ended.
Simone called police.
Then Julian.
He answered first ring.
“Simone?”
“Matteo has Deline.”
Silence.
Then:
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“We meet federal agents.”
Pause.
“Yes.”
She closed eyes.
He had learned.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not making me ask twice.”
And forty minutes later Simone Bellamy walked into the most dangerous night of her life knowing two things.
Her sister might not deserve easy forgiveness.
But she deserved to live.
And Julian Marzano might still be dangerous.
May you like
But for the first time, he was learning that love was not proven by how violently a man could protect a woman.
Sometimes it was proven by how much violence he was willing to refuse.
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