Chapter 12 - THE FIRE RETURNS
The blast knocked all four of us to the floor.
Flames erupted along the east side of the building.
Lorenzo stared at his phone.
Vincent had hung up.
“Son of a bitch.”
Smoke poured downstairs.
Luca froze.
I saw it immediately.
The fire.
The smell.
The sound.
He wasn't thirty-six anymore.
He was twenty-four and trapped in Warehouse Seventeen.
“Luca!”
No response.
I grabbed his face.
“Look at me.”
His eyes found mine.
“This isn't then.”
He couldn't breathe.
“This isn't the warehouse.”
Fire climbed the stairs.
“I'm here.”
His face crumpled.
For twelve years, he'd survived alone.
Not tonight.
I pulled him up.
“We leave together.”
We found a service exit.
Locked.
Lorenzo shot the hinges.
I stared at him.
He laughed bitterly.
“Don't make it sentimental.”
Smoke filled the corridor.
Isabella coughed violently.
We pushed through the door into an alley as the upper floor collapsed.
Daniel’s men rushed toward us.
Lorenzo raised his weapon.
They aimed back.
“Stop!” I shouted.
Everyone froze.
Lorenzo looked at me.
“You letting me go?”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“But I'm not killing you today.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to tell the truth.”
“To who?”
“Everyone.”
We took him to a secure property outside the city.
For six hours, Luca and Isabella photographed every page of the red ledger.
It was worse than I expected.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Union officials.
Contractors.
Politicians.
And the internal network Vincent had built.
Millions stolen.
Dozens of murders disguised as accidents.
My father’s poisoning.
Luca’s attack.
Even my mother's final medical treatment had been manipulated.
Vincent had delayed access to specialists because he feared she would speak.
I closed the book.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Beatrice’s voice came from the doorway.
“No.”
She had left the hospital against medical advice.
Of course she had.
“You were shot.”
“I noticed.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Stopping another stupid Vale man from solving everything with a gun.”
Isabella smiled despite herself.
“I like her.”
Beatrice walked toward me carefully.
“If you kill Vincent, you prove he was right.”
“About what?”
“That this family can only survive through blood.”
“He murdered my father.”
“Yes.”
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
“Destroyed Luca.”
Luca lowered his eyes.
Beatrice looked at me.
“Then end what he built.”
That was harder.
Killing Vincent would take one bullet.
Destroying his power would take everything I had.
Maybe that was the point.
Lorenzo, handcuffed across the room, laughed.
“You think you can walk away from this life?”
I turned.
“No.”
He smirked.
Then I added, “But I can burn down the part that made men like you.”
His smile disappeared.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Vincent.
“Adrian.”
“You missed.”
“No.”
He sounded amused.
“I learned what I needed.”
“What?”
“That you found the ledger.”
I looked around the room.
Vincent continued.
May you like
“And now I know exactly where Beatrice is.”
Every light in the house went out.
