Chapter 12 - The Brother Who Finally Chose a Side
Vincent Moretti woke in a hospital room with a federal agent sitting beside his bed.
His chest hurt.
His left shoulder was bandaged.
A monitor beeped steadily near the window.
For several seconds, he didn't remember what had happened.
Then he saw Alexander standing at the foot of the bed.
Vincent closed his eyes.
"Of course."
Alexander folded his arms.
"Good morning."
"Am I under arrest?"
"Not yet."
Vincent opened one eye.
"That's disappointing."
Alexander pulled up a chair.
The federal agent stepped outside after receiving a nod from Rebecca.
Vincent watched him leave.
"You're trusting the government now?"
"I'm trusting evidence."
"That's new."
Alexander didn't smile.
"Father has Lucy."
Vincent's expression changed immediately.
"What?"
"He took her."
"No."
"He took Elena and Mom too."
Vincent stared at him.
"Mom?"
Alexander watched his brother.
"Eleanor is alive."
Vincent went completely still.
For a moment, Alexander thought he hadn't heard.
Then Vincent whispered, "That's impossible."
Alexander took out a photograph.
It showed Eleanor holding Lucy.
Vincent stared.
His face changed slowly.
Disbelief.
Recognition.
Then something painfully close to grief.
"Mom?"
Alexander nodded.
Vincent reached toward the picture.
His fingers trembled.
"She looks..."
He stopped.
Alexander waited.
Vincent pressed the photograph against his chest.
"She looks old."
Alexander's throat tightened.
"Twenty-seven years will do that."
Vincent began crying.
Quietly at first.
Then with the helplessness of a child.
Alexander looked away.
He had spent two days wanting to hate his brother.
He still did.
But the man in the hospital bed was also the boy who had lost his mother.
The boy who had been taught that love was weakness.
The boy Lorenzo had shaped into someone cruel enough to repeat his methods.
Vincent wiped his face.
"Does she know what I did?"
Alexander nodded.
"Yes."
His brother looked down.
"She'll hate me."
"I don't know."
"She should."
Alexander didn't contradict him.
Vincent looked toward the window.
"Father told me she abandoned us."
"Me too."
"He said she couldn't stand living with us anymore."
Alexander swallowed.
"I know."
Vincent laughed bitterly.
"And I believed him."
Alexander leaned forward.
"Then tell me why you kept believing him after you learned what he'd done to Isabella."
Vincent's expression closed.
"Alex."
"Tell me."
"You don't understand the kind of man he is."
"I understand enough."
"No."
Vincent turned toward him.
"You think he only threatens people."
"He doesn't."
"He gives them something they can't live without."
"Then he makes sure they believe he'll take it away."
Alexander stared.
"What did he give you?"
Vincent looked down.
"The company."
"Money?"
"Power?"
Vincent shook his head.
"Purpose."
The word surprised Alexander.
Vincent swallowed.
"Father spent our entire childhood telling me I was useless."
"Too slow."
"Too weak."
"Too emotional."
"Then one day, after Mom died, he called me into his office."
"He said there was one thing I could do better than you."
Alexander remained silent.
"He said I knew how to make unpleasant decisions."
Vincent laughed without humor.
"And I spent the next twenty-seven years proving him right."
Alexander looked at the floor.
"That doesn't excuse what you did."
"I know."
"You kidnapped Isabella."
Vincent nodded.
"You helped keep her away from her daughter."
His brother closed his eyes.
"You lied at her funeral."
"Yes."
Alexander's voice broke.
"You stood beside me while I buried a stranger."
Vincent began crying again.
"I'm sorry."
Alexander stared at him.
He had imagined hearing those words.
He had imagined they might make something better.
They didn't.
"Sorry isn't enough."
"I know."
"Then do something useful."
Vincent opened his eyes.
Alexander leaned closer.
"Help me find her."
A long silence followed.
Then Vincent reached for the water on his bedside table.
He took a small sip.
"Father's original operation is beneath the factory."
Alexander nodded.
"We know."
"Do you know how to get inside?"
"Not yet."
Vincent looked toward the door.
"Then you need me."
Alexander watched him carefully.
"Why?"
"Because I built the security system."
The room went silent.
Vincent continued.
"There are three entrances."
"The main freight elevator."
"The maintenance tunnel."
"And a drainage passage beneath the old loading dock."
Alexander leaned forward.
"Which one isn't monitored?"
Vincent shook his head.
"All of them are."
"Then how do we get in?"
Vincent looked at him.
"By making Father believe he's won."
Alexander stared.
"Explain."
Vincent took a breath.
"Lorenzo doesn't just want the archive."
"He wants you to surrender your ownership interest."
"Why?"
"Because Eleanor's original shares were supposed to transfer to her surviving children after her death."
Alexander stared.
"But she didn't die."
"Exactly."
Vincent continued.
"The false death declaration allowed Father to control the trust."
"But if Eleanor is legally alive, the arrangement can be challenged."
Alexander understood.
"He needs us to sign away everything before the fraud is exposed."
Vincent nodded.
"And he needs Isabella to authenticate the original records."
"Why?"
"Because she copied the archive before the accident."
Alexander sat back.
"So that's what this is."
Vincent looked at him.
"Father doesn't fear prison as much as he fears losing control."
Alexander stared at his brother.
"Then we'll take it away."
Vincent nodded slowly.
"But there's something else."
"What?"
Vincent's expression darkened.
"Thomas Bell."
Alexander leaned forward.
"He's alive?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Beneath the factory."
"Can he walk?"
"I don't know."
"Does he know Elena is alive?"
Vincent shook his head.
"No."
Alexander closed his eyes.
Vincent continued.
"Father uses him to verify the old financial records."
"Bell designed parts of the original account structure."
"He understands where everything went."
"That's why Father never let him leave."
Alexander looked at him.
"Will you testify?"
Vincent stared.
"Against Father?"
"Against everyone."
His brother swallowed.
"That includes me."
"Yes."
Vincent looked toward the photograph of Eleanor.
He studied her face for a long time.
Then he nodded.
"Okay."
Alexander stood.
Vincent reached for his arm.
"Alex."
He turned.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me."
"Good."
Vincent's eyes filled.
"But if you get Mom back..."
Alexander waited.
"Tell her I remember the song."
Alexander frowned.
"What song?"
Vincent smiled through tears.
"The one she used to sing when the storms came."
Alexander felt his throat tighten.
He remembered.
Their mother would sit between them during thunderstorms.
She would pull a blanket over their shoulders.
And she would sing an old lullaby until neither boy was afraid.
Alexander looked at Vincent.
"You can tell her yourself."
Vincent shook his head.
"I don't know if I'll get that chance."
Alexander stood silently for a moment.
Then he said, "Make sure you earn it."
That night, Rebecca received the first message from Arthur Sloane.
It contained no greeting.
No explanation.
Only a photograph of Rachel Morgan standing beside an open service hatch.
And beneath it:
THE FACTORY HAS A FOURTH ENTRANCE.
LORENZO NEVER KNEW I KEPT IT.
A second message arrived.
I CAN GET YOU TO THE PRISONERS.
A third followed.
BUT I NEED IMMUNITY FOR MY SON.
Rebecca stared at the screen.
Then she looked at Alexander.
"Your father's oldest enforcer wants to cooperate."
Alexander folded his arms.
"Do we trust him?"
Rebecca shook her head.
"No."
Alexander nodded.
"Good."
May you like
He looked at the blueprint on the table.
"Then let's give him a reason to trust us."
