Chapter 6 - The Last Camera
Vincent had avoided the greenhouse since Elena died.
He could face armed enemies without hesitation.
He could not face his wife's gardening gloves.
They still hung from a hook beside the door.
Yellow.
Dirt-stained.
Exactly where Elena had left them.
Vincent stopped.
Clara stood behind him with Matteo.
"You okay?"
"No."
It was the first time he answered that question truthfully.
Clara touched his back.
Just once.
"I'm here."
Matteo added, "Me too."
Vincent looked at his son.
Then pushed open the door.
Dead roses filled the greenhouse.
Dry vines climbed trellises.
Dust covered the workbench.
Vincent remembered Elena standing there on Sunday mornings, hair tied carelessly above her neck, music playing from her phone.
He had teased her for spending hours growing flowers she could buy.
She had told him buying something wasn't the same as helping it live.
He hadn't understood.
Now he did.
"The dead flowers don't need water," Clara repeated.
Matteo pointed.
"Mom's favorite."
A large ceramic planter stood beneath the far window.
The rose inside had died long ago.
Vincent approached.
He removed the brittle plant.
Nothing.
Then Clara noticed scratches around the base.
"Lift it."
Vincent did.
Underneath was a loose floor tile.
His heart began pounding.
Dominic pried it open.
Inside was a waterproof case.
Black.
Vincent stared.
The missing ledger.
Beside it was a flash drive.
And an envelope.
His name was written across it.
Vincent.
He recognized Elena's handwriting.
His hands shook.
Clara noticed.
"You can do this later."
"No."
He opened it.
The letter was several pages long.
Vincent read silently at first.
Then his face changed.
Matteo watched him.
"What does it say?"
Vincent couldn't answer.
Clara touched his arm.
He finally spoke.
"Your mom knew someone was betraying us."
Matteo looked frightened.
Vincent immediately corrected himself.
"But she was trying to protect us."
He read further.
Elena had discovered irregular payments in one of Vincent's shipping companies.
Money routed to businesses connected to DeLuca.
She had confronted Vincent's accountant privately.
The accountant warned her that someone inside Vincent's organization was helping DeLuca.
Elena stole the ledger because she feared Vincent would react violently before discovering the full conspiracy.
Then came the sentence that broke him.
Vincent read it twice.
Clara asked, "What?"
He handed her the letter.
She read:
If you're reading this, something may have happened before I could convince you to leave this life. Please don't turn my death into another reason to become harder. Matteo needs your heart more than he needs your empire.
Clara's eyes filled.
Vincent turned away.
Matteo asked, "What did Mom say?"
Vincent knelt in front of him.
"She said I love you."
Matteo smiled sadly.
"She always said that."
Vincent's voice broke.
"She also said I need to stop being an idiot."
Clara looked at the letter.
"It doesn't say that."
"It was implied."
Matteo laughed.
The sound saved Vincent.
Dominic examined the ledger.
"This could bury DeLuca."
"How?"
"Payments, shell companies, officials, names."
Clara looked at Vincent.
"Police?"
Vincent didn't answer.
Dominic did.
"Federal."
The ledger documented enough financial crimes to attract multiple agencies.
More importantly, the flash drive contained recordings.
Elena had copied conversations from Vincent's office system.
One was between DeLuca and Eric.
Another contained DeLuca discussing "removing Rossi from the road."
It wasn't a confession in plain language.
But combined with Eric's testimony, the truck driver's financial records, and the ledger, it could become one.
Vincent stood in the greenhouse holding Elena's final gift.
For years, his instinct would have been simple.
Find DeLuca.
Kill him.
Burn everything connected to him.
Instead he looked at Matteo.
His son deserved a father who came home.
"Call the federal prosecutor."
Dominic blinked.
"You serious?"
"Yes."
Clara smiled.
Vincent noticed.
"Don't look so pleased."
"I'm extremely pleased."
"Try to hide it."
"No."
Within hours, arrangements began.
Vincent's attorneys negotiated carefully.
The ledger implicated members of Vincent's own organization too.
He knew cooperation would cost him.
Businesses.
Money.
Influence.
Possibly immunity agreements.
Possibly testimony.
For the first time, he didn't care.
That evening, Clara found him removing files from his office.
"What are you doing?"
"Closing companies."
"Which ones?"
"The ones I don't want Matteo inheriting."
She leaned against the doorway.
"That's a lot of personal growth for one afternoon."
"Don't ruin it."
Clara smiled.
Vincent walked toward her.
"Stay."
She blinked.
"I'm not leaving."
"I don't mean tonight."
Her smile disappeared.
Vincent's voice softened.
"When this is over."
"Vincent..."
"I know you came here for a job."
"I did."
"And I know my life is complicated."
"That's one word."
"I have others."
"I bet."
He moved closer.
"I don't know what this is."
Clara's breathing changed.
"Neither do I."
"But when I thought Matteo was gone..."
He stopped.
Clara waited.
"I thought I'd lost both of you."
Her eyes filled.
Vincent lifted a hand, hesitated, then touched her cheek.
She leaned into it.
The kiss was gentle.
Unexpectedly so.
No desperation.
No dramatic hunger.
Just two exhausted people acknowledging something that had been growing between them.
When they separated, Clara whispered, "Your timing is terrible."
"I've been told."
"By everyone?"
"Mostly you."
She smiled.
Then a voice came from the hallway.
"Ew."
They turned.
Matteo sat in his wheelchair.
Clara covered her face.
Vincent sighed.
"How long have you been there?"
"Long enough."
"You were supposed to be asleep."
"I needed water."
"There's water beside your bed."
"I needed different water."
Clara burst out laughing.
Matteo grinned.
For one beautiful moment, they were almost a family.
Then Dominic's phone rang.
His expression changed immediately.
He answered.
Listened.
"Lock everything down."
Vincent turned.
"What?"
Dominic looked at him.
"DeLuca knows about the ledger."
"How?"
"We don't know."
"Where is he?"
"Moving."
"Toward us?"
Dominic shook his head.
"Worse."
He looked at Clara.
"Toward Harbor Point."
Clara went pale.
"Why?"
Dominic handed her a photograph transmitted moments earlier.
Smoke poured from one wing of the rehabilitation center.
DeLuca's men had broken into the archives.
Searching for something.
Clara stared.
Then she remembered.
"The intake notes."
Vincent frowned.
"What notes?"
"When DeLuca approached me, I documented everything."
"You wrote down what he said?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"In a protected incident file at Harbor Point."
Dominic asked, "Does it identify him?"
"By name."
Vincent swore.
"Then he's destroying evidence."
Clara grabbed her coat.
Vincent blocked her.
"No."
"People work there."
"Fire crews are responding."
"My friends work there."
"And you're a target."
"I know the building."
"Clara."
"Some of the patients can't evacuate themselves."
That stopped him.
She looked at Matteo.
"Children like him."
Vincent closed his eyes.
He knew he had already lost the argument.
"Dominic."
"Yeah?"
"We're going."
Clara started toward the door.
Vincent caught her hand.
"You're staying beside me."
She looked at their joined hands.
"Bossy."
"Alive."
"Fine."
At Harbor Point, flames illuminated the night.
Firefighters crowded the entrance.
Staff pushed wheelchairs across the parking lot.
Clara ran toward a former coworker.
"Everyone out?"
"Second floor is clear. They're checking the east wing."
"Archives?"
"Fire started there."
Vincent scanned the crowd.
Then Dominic spoke.
"Boss."
Across the street, a black SUV idled.
A red falcon emblem hung from the rearview mirror.
Vincent saw it.
So did Clara.
The SUV began moving.
Dominic reached for his weapon.
Vincent stopped him.
"No."
"That's him."
"I know."
Vincent took out his phone.
He called the federal agent assigned to the case.
"DeLuca is leaving Harbor Point in a black SUV heading north."
Clara looked at him.
Vincent continued.
"Plate number incoming."
He ended the call.
Dominic stared.
"You're letting them take him?"
Vincent watched the SUV disappear.
"Yes."
For Elena.
For Matteo.
For the man he was trying to become.
But DeLuca had one final move left.
Vincent's phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Matteo.
Sitting in his wheelchair inside Vincent's estate.
Taken minutes ago.
Underneath were seven words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT THIS IN THE FAMILY.
Vincent's blood went cold.
May you like
Matteo had been left at the estate under guard.
Which meant Eric Mason had never been the only traitor.
