Chapter 11 - THEY TOOK MY BEST FRIEND
Z
Fear felt different when it belonged to someone else.
When Angelo targeted me, I could be angry.
When he targeted my unborn child, I became protective.
When he took Madison, I became reckless.
“I’m going.”
Vincent blocked the door.
“No.”
“She was taken because of me.”
“Exactly why you’re not going.”
“I am not hiding while Madison—”
“Claire.”
His voice cut through mine.
I hated when he used that tone.
The one that sounded like command.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Vincent.”
“No.”
I stepped closer until we were inches apart.
“You don’t get to be my husband when convenient.”
His face changed.
“I know.”
“You divorced me.”
“I know.”
“So you cannot order me into a room like I belong to you.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re standing in front of the door.”
“I’m asking you not to walk into a kidnapping while pregnant.”
That shut me up.
Because unfortunately, he had a point.
I hated that too.
Rebecca took control.
Rafe had made one mistake.
He had sent the photograph from a phone that briefly connected to a public network.
Federal technicians traced it to an industrial district near Joliet.
Not exact.
But enough.
Madison had also done something brilliant.
Before she was taken, she activated the emergency location function on her smartwatch.
The kidnappers had found her phone.
They had not found the watch taped inside the lining of her boot.
Of course Madison had an emergency watch in her boot.
She had watched too many crime documentaries.
For once, I was grateful.
The signal stopped near an abandoned printing facility.
Rebecca organized the operation.
Vincent wanted in.
Rebecca refused.
“You are injured.”
“I can shoot with my right hand.”
“You are also a cooperating witness.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
I stepped between them.
“Vincent.”
He looked at me.
“Stay.”
His jaw tightened.
“Claire.”
“Please.”
That word did what Rebecca’s authority couldn’t.
He stayed.
We waited.
Forty-seven minutes.
I counted every one.
Then Rebecca’s phone rang.
Madison had been recovered alive.
Rafe was not there.
Two men were arrested.
One escaped.
I cried so hard I nearly threw up.
Madison returned four hours later.
She had a bruised cheek and split lip.
She also brought something with her.
Information.
“They argued,” she said after a doctor examined her.
“About what?”
“Rafe and one of the guys.”
She drank water.
“Rafe said Angelo was losing control. He said there was another plan.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“What plan?”
Madison looked at me.
“For the baby.”
My entire body went cold.
She continued.
“I heard the words hospital and birth certificate.”
Vincent’s face became terrifying.
“They were planning to wait until delivery.”
“To do what?” I asked.
Madison hesitated.
“Take the baby.”
The room disappeared for a second.
I sat down.
“No.”
Vincent crossed toward me.
He stopped before touching me.
“Claire.”
“No one is taking my child.”
“No one will.”
“You can’t promise that.”
His jaw tightened.
“I can promise they’ll have to go through me.”
“That is exactly the kind of promise I don’t want.”
He froze.
I stood.
“You think protecting us means standing in front of bullets.”
“What else should it mean?”
“Building a life where the bullets aren’t coming.”
His expression changed.
I pointed at the files.
“The organization. The businesses. The family loyalty. The secrets. Every generation says they’ll control it better.”
Vincent said nothing.
“And every generation buries somebody.”
My voice shook.
“I won’t do it.”
“Neither will I.”
“Then finish it.”
The room became quiet.
“Finish what Emilia and my father started.”
He looked at me.
“Give Rebecca everything.”
“I already am.”
“No.”
I knew there were still things he had not disclosed.
Not murders.
Not atrocities.
But financial arrangements.
Old agreements.
Names.
Things that could cost him his remaining power.
Maybe his freedom.
Vincent knew I knew.
“If I give her everything,” he said quietly, “I could go to prison.”
My chest tightened.
“I know.”
“Our child could be born while I’m inside.”
“I know.”
His eyes held mine.
“And you still want me to do it?”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I want our child to have a father who can look them in the eye.”
The words hurt both of us.
Vincent turned toward Rebecca.
“How much paper do you have?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You’re going to need more.”
He spent the next eleven hours talking.
Bank accounts.
Names.
Dates.
Properties.
Transactions.
Officials.
People he had protected.
People he had paid.
Every corner he had cut while telling himself it was necessary.
At sunrise, he walked out looking ten years older.
I waited in the hall.
He stopped when he saw me.
“It’s done.”
I nodded.
“What happens now?”
“I don’t know.”
For Vincent Moretti, those words were almost revolutionary.
I stepped toward him.
Then I hugged him.
He froze.
His arms slowly came around me.
Careful of my stomach.
Careful of his shoulder.
Careful of everything.
“I’m proud of you,” I whispered.
His breath caught.
Nobody had ever looked more destroyed by praise.
Then he whispered into my hair,
“I loved you before I knew what to call it.”
My eyes closed.
He continued.
“When I said you thought you replaced Sophia…”
I pulled back.
“Yes?”
He looked embarrassed.
Vincent Moretti.
Embarrassed.
“You didn’t replace Sophia.”
“Who did I replace?”
“My grandmother.”
I blinked.
“That may be the least romantic sentence ever spoken.”
He almost smiled.
“She was the only person I trusted. The only person whose opinion could make me question myself.”
His hand lifted but didn’t touch my face.
“Then you came.”
My throat tightened.
“You became home before I understood I needed one.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
“That would have been useful three years ago.”
“I know.”
I leaned my forehead against his.
For one second.
Only one.
Then Rebecca opened the door.
“Vincent.”
We separated.
She looked serious.
“Angelo has surfaced.”
Vincent straightened.
“Where?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“At your old house.”
The Moretti mansion.
May you like
And according to the security cameras, Angelo wasn’t alone.
Isabella Moretti was inside with him.
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