Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3 — The Sins of the Brother
The federal correctional facility in upstate New York was entirely gray.
Gray walls. Gray floors. Gray sky beyond the barbed wire fences.
It looked exactly how a cage should look.
Roman sat beside me in the back of the SUV as we pulled into the visitor parking lot.
He had insisted on accompanying me.
I had insisted he stay in the car.
“Grant will not speak to you,” I had told him during the drive.
“He hates you more than he hates his own choices.”
“He hates me because I took his power,” Roman had replied.
“He will only give me leverage if he thinks he is talking to his victim,” I said.
“Let him think he still has control over me.”
Roman had not liked it, but he had agreed.
Now, as I unbuckled my seatbelt, Roman caught my wrist.
“Fifteen minutes, Evelyn. If you are not out, I am coming inside.”
“I will be out in ten.”
I stepped out into the freezing wind and walked toward the concrete building.
The security process was tedious and degrading.
Metal detectors. Pat-downs. Staring into cameras.
When I finally entered the visitor room, the air smelled of bleach and stale sweat.
A row of thick acrylic windows divided the room.
I sat at booth number four.
A minute later, a heavy metal door opened on the other side.
Two guards escorted Grant into the room.
He wore an orange jumpsuit that hung loosely on his frame.
His hair was thinning. His face was gaunt, unshaven, and shadowed by deep, dark circles.
He looked like a ghost of the arrogant prince who had sold me at the altar.
He sat down heavily on the metal stool.
He picked up the black telephone receiver.
I picked up mine.
We stared at each other through the scratched plastic.
“Evie,” he said.
His voice crackled through the cheap speaker.
“Grant.”
He offered a weak, pathetic smile.
“I didn’t think you would ever come.”
“I didn’t come for a reunion.”
His smile vanished.
“Right. You came because you want something.”
“Victor Kael is back in the city.”
Grant flinched.
It was a small movement, a slight tightening of his shoulders, but I saw it.
“I don’t know who that is,” he said.
“You are a terrible liar, Grant. You always were.”
I leaned closer to the glass.
“He left a package at my shelter today. It contained a riding crop and a note referencing debts.”
Grant looked down at his chained hands.
“Kael was Dad’s problem. Not mine.”
“Dad is dead. Kael is coming after Roman.”
“Good.”
Grant looked up, his eyes flashing with a sudden, bitter venom.
“I hope Kael kills him. I hope he tears Roman’s empire apart.”
“If Kael tears Roman apart, he tears me apart.”
“You chose Roman.”
“I chose to survive.”
I kept my voice completely flat, refusing to give him the emotional reaction he craved.
“How did Kael know about the crop, Grant?”
“Dad bragged about it.”
“To Kael?”
“To anyone who questioned his authority.”
Grant laughed, a harsh, scraping sound.
“Dad used to tell his partners that if he could break his own daughter, imagine what he could do to his enemies.”
The words struck me, sharp and sickening.
My pain had been a marketing tool for my father’s ruthlessness.
I did not let the horror show on my face.
“How is Kael operating? Roman gave his accounts to the feds.”
“The feds didn’t get everything.”
Grant leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the glass.
“Dad set up a blind trust for Kael years ago. An insurance policy in case the ports were ever seized.”
“Where is the trust?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Because if you don’t, I will have Roman’s lawyers petition the warden to move you to a maximum-security facility.”
Grant paled.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I have no loyalty left for you, Grant. None.”
I tapped my fingernail against the glass.
“Where is the trust?”
He swallowed hard.
“It’s tied to the old Red Hook terminal. The one Roman took from me.”
“Roman uses that terminal for legitimate freight now.”
“There is a subterranean vault beneath warehouse number four.”
Grant’s eyes darted nervously.
“Dad built it before the city rezoned the waterfront. It’s off the blueprints. That’s where Kael’s reserve cash is hidden.”
“And Kael is going there?”
“He has to. Without that cash, he can’t buy the loyalty of the street crews.”
I stood up.
“Thank you, Grant.”
“Evie, wait.”
I paused.
He pressed his hand against the glass.
“I’m sorry. For everything.”
I looked at his hand, then at his hollow, defeated face.
“I forgive you, Grant.”
He looked surprised.
“But forgiveness does not mean access,” I said.
“I hope you find peace. But I am never coming to see you again.”
I placed the receiver on the hook.
I walked out of the room without looking back.
When I reached the parking lot, Roman was leaning against the SUV.
“Well?” he asked.
“We need to go to Red Hook.”
“Tonight?”
“Before Kael gets to the vault.”
Roman opened the door for me.
May you like
“We aren’t going alone.”
“No,” I agreed. “We are taking the FBI with us.”
