Chapter 6 - The Man Adrien Trusted Most
Adrien did not remember leaving Miriam Vale’s office.
He remembered the photograph.
Marco across a café table from Elena.
Elena leaning forward.
Marco watching her with an expression impossible to interpret from a frozen frame.
He remembered the words.
Which man in your house was trying to destroy you.
Everything after that became movement without sensation.
Elevator.
Lobby.
Winter air.
Black car.
His hand on the door.
The driver asking whether he wanted the airport.
Adrien said yes.
Then, halfway to Reagan National, he changed his mind.
“Stop.”
The driver looked through the mirror.
“Sir?”
“Stop the car.”
They pulled beside a quiet stretch overlooking the river.
Adrien got out.
Cold wind struck his face.
For fifteen years, Marco Bellini had been the nearest thing Adrien had to a brother.
They had grown up inside the same violent architecture.
Marco’s father worked for Adrien’s father.
When Adrien was nineteen and reckless, Marco was the one who pulled him out of a nightclub before rival gunmen arrived.
When Adrien’s older brother died, Marco stood beside him at the funeral.
When Adrien inherited the Moretti organization at twenty-seven, half the old captains doubted him.
Marco did not.
Two years later, outside Naples, Marco took a bullet through the shoulder meant for Adrien.
There were debts money could not repay.
Adrien had believed that was one.
Now he thought about Elena.
The storage unit.
The oncology appointments.
The poison.
The photograph.
He called Miriam Vale.
She answered.
“You left quickly.”
“Tell me everything.”
“I already told you what Elena authorized me to tell you if you found me.”
Adrien closed his eyes.
“She expected me to find you?”
“She expected the possibility.”
“Where is she?”
“I cannot answer.”
“Marco poisoned her?”
Vale was silent.
“That photograph is not proof.”
“Then why show it?”
“Because you need to stop making decisions based on the first story that satisfies your anger.”
Adrien’s jaw tightened.
“Speak clearly.”
“Elena learned that someone was using Moretti infrastructure for trafficking.”
“I heard you.”
“She traced altered manifests to an internal authorization code.”
“Whose?”
“Marco Bellini’s.”
Adrien felt the world narrow.
“But?”
Vale paused.
“But Elena did not believe Marco was responsible.”
That stopped him.
“Why?”
“Because the code appeared on nights Marco was verifiably somewhere else.”
Adrien’s mind shifted automatically into calculation.
“Duplicated access.”
“Exactly.”
“Who had his credentials?”
“That was the question Elena was trying to answer when she became ill.”
“And the photograph?”
“She asked Marco for help.”
Adrien stared across the dark water.
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vale’s reply was immediate.
“Because she no longer trusted your judgment.”
The words cut more deeply than an accusation.
Adrien said nothing.
“You were spending private time with Victoria Hail,” Vale continued. “You had begun excluding Elena from internal decisions. And someone close enough to duplicate senior access was poisoning her.”
“You think Victoria did it.”
“I think Elena suspected multiple people.”
“Did Marco know she was poisoned?”
“Eventually.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
“That is a question for Marco.”
Adrien ended the call.
The Moretti jet reached Chicago after midnight.
He did not go home.
He went directly to a warehouse near the river where Marco was overseeing a delivery dispute.
Marco saw Adrien enter and immediately dismissed the men around him.
“You look terrible.”
Adrien closed the office door.
Then placed the photograph on the desk.
Marco looked down.
His face became completely still.
Not guilt.
Recognition.
Adrien hated that he could still read him.
“When were you going to tell me?”
Marco looked up.
“Where did you get this?”
“Answer me.”
Marco walked toward the window.
“She asked me not to.”
“That stopped mattering when someone poisoned her.”
Marco turned.
“So you know.”
Adrien crossed the room and struck him.
Marco hit the desk, caught himself, and slowly straightened.
He did not fight back.
Adrien hit him again.
Blood appeared at the corner of Marco’s mouth.
“Seven months,” Adrien said. “You knew for seven months.”
“Not seven.”
“How long?”
“Four.”
Another punch.
This time Marco grabbed Adrien’s wrist.
“Enough.”
Adrien shoved him away.
“You watched me humiliate her.”
Marco wiped his mouth.
“Yes.”
“You watched her leave.”
“Yes.”
“You told me nothing.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Marco’s composure finally fractured.
“Because she made me promise.”
Adrien laughed bitterly.
“My wife asked you to hide an attempted murder from me, and you agreed?”
“She asked me to help her find who was behind it before you started a war with the wrong person.”
“I would have protected her.”
Marco stared at him.
“No.”
Adrien went still.
Marco stepped closer.
“You would have protected your possession.”
The words landed between them.
“You would have locked Elena inside this house, surrounded her with guards, threatened half the city and called it love.”
Adrien’s expression hardened.
Marco continued anyway.
“She didn’t need a prison. She needed someone to listen.”
“I listened to her.”
“Not anymore.”
“You think you know my marriage?”
“I knew what she sounded like every time she called me because you wouldn’t answer.”
Adrien’s face changed.
Marco saw it.
“She called you?”
“Three times.”
“When?”
“The first time after she found the altered manifests. The second after she collapsed in the foundation office.”
Adrien’s breath caught.
“And the third?”
Marco looked at him.
“Her birthday.”
The room disappeared.
Adrien remembered New York.
Victoria.
The unanswered calls.
Elena asking whether he would come home.
“She called you after me.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Marco’s voice softened.
“She said, ‘Don’t tell him yet. He already thinks I’m trying to make everything about me.’”
Adrien turned away.
For several seconds, he could not speak.
When he finally did, his voice was almost unrecognizable.
“Who poisoned her?”
“We never proved it.”
“Who had your credentials?”
“Four people could have duplicated them without triggering an immediate alert.”
“Names.”
Marco hesitated.
“Your chief accountant, Peter Sloan. Your port director, Emilio Varga. Me.”
“And?”
Silence.
Adrien looked back.
Marco’s eyes told him before his mouth did.
“Victoria.”
Adrien felt no shock.
That frightened him.
“How?”
“She sat on the joint logistics committee after the Hail-Moretti port agreement. She had temporary executive access.”
“Why didn’t Elena accuse her?”
“Because suspicion isn’t proof.”
Adrien remembered the SUV following Elena.
Victoria knowing about the hospital.
Victoria seated three chairs away during the gala.
His hands curled.
Marco pointed toward him.
“That expression is exactly why Elena didn’t tell you.”
“She followed my wife.”
“Yes.”
“She knew Elena was ill.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect me to do nothing?”
“I expect you to learn the difference between action and stupidity.”
Adrien stared at him.
Marco pulled open a drawer and removed a flash drive.
“Elena gave me this three days before the gala.”
“What is it?”
“Everything she had found.”
Adrien reached for it.
Marco did not release it.
“She told me I could give it to you under one condition.”
“What?”
“If she disappeared, I had to wait until you came looking for the truth instead of simply looking for her.”
Adrien’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
Marco finally let go.
“I think you’re about to find out.”
