Chapter 8 - The ExchangeVictor chose an abandoned rail depot outside Joliet.
Of course he did.
Men who spend decades thinking of themselves as kings apparently develop a taste for dramatic locations.
The depot had rusted tracks, broken windows and an old loading warehouse large enough to swallow sound.
Police wanted to rush it.
Roman refused.
Victor had sent photographs proving Leo wore an explosive vest.
Not necessarily functional.
Nobody wanted to test the theory.
I arrived at 10:17 p.m.
Alone.
At least that was what Victor was supposed to believe.
My father’s watch sat on my wrist.
Vittorio’s letter rested inside my coat.
A microphone smaller than a grain of rice was stitched behind my collar.
Roman waited half a mile away inside an unmarked command vehicle.
He hated every second of it.
I knew because he had spent the entire drive arguing.
“You don’t improvise.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t antagonize him.”
“I’ll try.”
“Nora.”
“Fine. I won’t.”
“You’re lying.”
“A little.”
Roman had stared at me.
Then, without warning, pulled me toward him.
He stopped inches away.
Not kissing.
Not quite.
His forehead touched mine.
“Come back.”
Two words.
No command.
No billionaire certainty.
Just a request.
“I will.”
Now I walked into the depot.
Victor stood beneath a single overhead light.
Leo sat on a chair ten feet behind him.
His hands weren’t tied.
The vest was wrapped around his small chest.
Red numbers glowed on a display.
No countdown.
That was either encouraging or terrifying.
“Nora!”
“I’m okay,” I said quickly. “You’re okay too.”
Victor raised a pistol.
“Enough.”
Leo went silent.
My fear became anger.
Victor looked nothing like a murderer.
That disturbed me.
He looked like someone’s grandfather.
Gray hair.
Expensive wool coat.
Polished shoes.
Calm eyes.
“You resemble Michael,” he said.
“People tell me.”
“He was stubborn too.”
“You murdered him.”
Victor sighed.
“Young people always need simple words.”
“I’m thirty-one.”
“To me, that’s young.”
“So is six.”
His eyes shifted toward Leo.
“Nothing happens to him if you cooperate.”
“You said the dart wasn’t aimed at him.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You were willing to shoot through him.”
“That was Cynthia’s operational mistake.”
“You blame employees for everything?”
His eyes cooled.
“Nora.”
I remembered Roman’s instructions.
Don’t antagonize him.
Too late.
Victor held out his hand.
“The watch.”
I removed it.
For one second, my fingers resisted.
Sixteen years.
My father’s last object.
Then I tossed it.
Victor caught it.
He turned it over.
“That little thing caused extraordinary inconvenience.”
“Dad would be proud.”
He opened the back with a small tool.
Inside was a memory chip.
Not the real one.
Marcus had built the duplicate.
Victor inserted it into a laptop.
Folders appeared.
He clicked.
Encrypted files.
“What’s the password?”
“I don’t know.”
He raised the gun.
“Nora.”
“Dad never told me.”
“You expect me to believe he hid evidence for you without providing access?”
“He died before he could.”
Victor studied me.
Then smiled.
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“Michael always planned three moves ahead.”
“So do you.”
“That’s why he nearly beat me.”
“Nearly?”
Victor’s smile disappeared.
“I’m still here.”
There.
Ego.
Marcus had predicted it.
Victor didn’t simply want the evidence.
He wanted recognition.
I needed him talking.
“You killed two men and spent sixteen years hiding it. That doesn’t sound like winning.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“Vittorio was weak.”
In the command vehicle, every word was being recorded.
I kept my breathing steady.
“He was your brother.”
“He was going to destroy everything we built.”
“You mean expose you.”
“I mean destroy the company.”
“You were stealing.”
“I was keeping us alive.”
“By using unsafe materials?”
“That was temporary.”
“People were injured.”
“Every company has accidents.”
“You caused them.”
His face sharpened.
“Careful.”
Behind him, Leo watched me.
I needed him calm.
I touched my own collar twice.
Our signal.
Leo blinked.
Roman had taught him a game years ago.
Two touches meant stay still.
Victor didn’t notice.
“Did you poison my father yourself?”
His expression changed.
“No.”
My heart kicked.
“Who did?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“He was warned.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Victor walked closer.
“Michael could have taken money.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“I offered him enough to send you to any university in America.”
My throat tightened.
“He refused because apparently virtue becomes very important when poor men get a chance to feel superior.”
I wanted to hit him.
Instead I said, “So you poisoned him.”
“I had the situation handled.”
“Who put it in his coffee?”
Victor smiled.
“You really don’t know.”
The answer frightened me.
“What?”
“Your father trusted too many people.”
“Who?”
Victor ignored me.
“Give me Vittorio’s letter.”
I pulled it from my coat.
“Release Leo.”
“The letter first.”
“No.”
He raised the gun.
Leo whimpered.
I nearly broke.
Then Roman’s voice came faintly through the hidden receiver in my ear.
Hold.
Victor couldn’t hear it.
I forced myself to remain still.
“If you shoot me,” I said, “you never get the password.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You said you don’t know it.”
“I lied.”
Silence.
Good.
Victor stepped closer.
“What is it?”
“Release Leo.”
“Password.”
“Leo.”
His face hardened.
Then he laughed.
“You really are Michael’s daughter.”
“Apparently that’s inconvenient.”
He walked toward Leo.
I stopped breathing.
Victor touched the vest.
“The detonator is linked to my phone.”
My stomach dropped.
“You kill me, it activates. Police rush the building, it activates. Signal jammer, it activates.”
Roman’s voice entered my ear.
He may be bluffing.
May.
Not enough.
Victor unfastened one strap from Leo.
“Password.”
I looked at the laptop.
The fake encrypted folder contained one file Marcus had designed to transmit Victor’s network credentials the moment it was opened.
We didn’t need his password.
We needed him to believe we did.
“Michael17.”
Victor typed.
Wrong.
He looked at me.
“Try Nora0612.”
Wrong.
His eyes sharpened.
“You’re wasting time.”
I wasn’t.
Every attempt kept him focused on the laptop.
Behind him, Leo slowly moved one hand toward the vest buckle.
Two touches.
Stay still.
I gave him a tiny shake of my head.
He stopped.
Victor typed a third password.
Then the laptop screen changed.
ACCESS GRANTED.
He froze.
So did I.
That wasn’t part of the plan.
A video file appeared.
Filename:
VICTOR.
“What did you do?” I whispered.
Marcus’s voice burst in my ear.
That isn’t ours.
Victor clicked it.
My father appeared onscreen.
A recording we had never seen.
My knees nearly gave out.
Dad sat inside his truck.
“If Victor Moretti is watching this, then you found the backup.”
Victor went pale.
My father looked straight into the camera.
“You always thought fear made you smarter than everyone else.”
Victor’s hand shook.
“But fear makes men predictable.”
Dad held up a document.
“I sent copies of everything to three places. Vittorio has one. My attorney has another.”
Victor whispered, “No.”
“And Nora…”
Dad smiled sadly.
“…you have the last one, even if you don’t know it yet.”
I stared at the watch.
The real watch was with police.
What did he mean?
Victor slammed the laptop shut.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“WHERE?”
Leo started crying.
Victor spun toward him.
That was the mistake.
The western window shattered.
A sniper round struck Victor’s gun.
It flew from his hand.
At the same second, lights exploded on.
Police flooded the depot.
Victor grabbed Leo.
Roman’s voice thundered from somewhere behind me.
“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”
Victor dragged Leo backward.
One hand reached toward his phone.
I moved.
Again.
Just like the ballroom.
No time.
No plan.
I grabbed the laptop and threw it.
It struck Victor’s arm.
The phone fell.
Leo ducked.
Roman reached him first.
He tore Leo away as officers slammed Victor to the ground.
I stood frozen.
Roman ripped at the vest.
A bomb technician shouted.
“Don’t touch it!”
Roman ignored him.
“Sir!”
“It’s fake!”
Victor began laughing from the floor.
The technician scanned it.
Then nodded.
“No explosive.”
Roman crushed Leo against his chest.
I sagged against a pillar.
It was over.
For ten seconds.
Then Victor looked at me from the floor.
Blood trickled from his lip.
He smiled.
“You still don’t know who poisoned your father.”
My body went cold.
Police lifted him.
I stepped forward.
“Who?”
Victor laughed.
“You’ve been living under the same roof.”
Roman froze.
So did I.
The same roof.
The Moretti estate.
Elena.
Marcus.
Security.
Staff.
Someone who had known Dad.
Someone Victor claimed had poisoned him.
The officers dragged Victor outside.
Roman looked at me.
We both thought of the same person.
Elena Moretti.
Roman’s beloved aunt.
The woman who had welcomed me.
Protected Leo.
Told me stories about Vittorio.
And when we returned to the estate an hour later, Elena was gone.
May you like
On the kitchen table, she had left one note.
Nora, I’m sorry.
