Chapter 3 - The Brother Buried TwiceBy sunrise, Vincent Moretti had disappeared.
His house was empty.
His phones were dead.
His accounts had begun moving money offshore.
Adrian issued one instruction.
Nobody touched Vincent.
Not until Adrian understood everything.
Claire remained in Adrian's penthouse under Marcus's protection.
She hated it.
“You kidnapped me into luxury.”
“You were kidnapped from my apartment.”
“Technically this is still involuntary relocation.”
Adrian almost smiled.
It surprised both of them.
Claire had begun to see something beneath the reputation.
Adrian Moretti was dangerous.
But he wasn't careless.
He never entered her room without knocking.
Never touched her without permission.
Never demanded gratitude.
When nightmares woke her, he left tea outside her door without mentioning them the next morning.
And Adrian discovered something equally unsettling.
Claire wasn't fragile.
She was frightened sometimes.
But courage was not the absence of fear.
Claire had simply decided fear would not choose her actions.
Together they reconstructed Elliot's records.
Marco had discovered Vincent's private operation sixteen years earlier.
Vincent had used Moretti businesses to hide money from trafficking, bribery, and political corruption.
Marco planned to expose him internally.
Vincent arranged his murder.
Elliot falsified financial records under threat.
The Miami boating accident was staged.
But there was one missing piece.
Marco's body.
If he died in Chicago, whose body had been buried?
The answer arrived in Elliot's final encrypted file.
A cemetery plot.
Claire and Adrian visited after midnight.
Marcus came with them.
The family mausoleum stood silent beneath bare trees.
Adrian opened Marco's tomb.
The coffin inside was empty.
He stared into it.
Twelve years.
An empty coffin.
Claire stood beside him.
Adrian didn't cry.
That made it worse.
“He deserved better,” Claire said.
“He deserved a brother who asked questions.”
“You were twenty-nine.”
“I believed them.”
“You were grieving.”
“I believed them.”
Claire stepped closer.
“Adrian.”
He looked at her.
“My father helped hide the truth. Does that mean I should spend my life punishing myself for what he did?”
“No.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
He had no answer.
Her hand touched his.
Adrian looked down.
Then slowly closed his fingers around hers.
It was the first peaceful moment either had experienced in days.
It lasted approximately ten seconds.
Marcus's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“Vincent contacted us.”
“Where?”
“He wants to trade.”
“For what?”
Marcus looked at Claire.
“Her.”
Adrian immediately said, “No.”
Claire replied, “Yes.”
They looked at each other.
“No.”
“Adrian—”
“No.”
“He has Marco's original ledger.”
“I don't care.”
“You do.”
“Not enough.”
Claire stared.
Something passed between them.
Something neither was ready to name.
Vincent had proposed a meeting at an abandoned church outside the city.
Claire insisted on going.
Adrian finally agreed under one condition.
She wore a tracker.
The church was empty when they arrived.
Except for Vincent.
He sat in the first pew.
“You look like your father,” Vincent told Adrian.
Adrian remained standing.
“You murdered my brother.”
Vincent sighed.
“Marco was going to destroy everything.”
“So you killed him.”
“I saved this family.”
Claire spoke.
“You murdered Elliot too.”
Vincent looked at her.
“No.”
Claire froze.
“Your father was killed because he contacted someone six weeks ago.”
“Who?”
Vincent smiled.
“Ask Adrian's attorney.”
Raymond Shaw.
Claire remembered the list.
Nine names.
Raymond's name had been there.
Adrian turned toward Marcus.
“Call the penthouse.”
No answer.
Adrian called again.
Nothing.
Vincent smiled.
“You keep looking at old men when you should be afraid of ambitious ones.”
Then the church lights died.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Marcus shoved Adrian behind a stone column.
Claire dropped behind a pew.
When emergency lights flickered on, Vincent was gone.
So was the ledger.
Adrian grabbed Claire.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
He checked anyway.
She caught his face between her hands.
“I'm okay.”
Their eyes met.
For one suspended second, the church, guns, Vincent, Marco—everything disappeared.
Adrian kissed her.
Not violently.
Not possessively.
Carefully.
As if asking a question.
Claire answered by pulling him closer.
Then Marcus shouted from outside.
“We have a problem!”
They separated.
Marcus held his phone.
“Raymond emptied three accounts.”
Adrian understood.
Vincent had murdered Marco.
But Vincent wasn't running the conspiracy anymore.
May you like
Raymond Shaw was.
And Raymond had just declared war.
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