Chapter 6 - The Lake HouseThe lake house had belonged to my grandfather.
No cameras.
No neighbors.
No cell service for almost four miles.
A perfect place for a secret.
Also a perfect place for an ambush.
Agent Kim hated the plan.
“That house sits outside reliable radio range.”
“Which is why whoever contacted me chose it.”
“You’re assuming they want to talk.”
“No. I’m assuming they want the tape.”
Kim checked her weapon.
She was forty, compact, observant, and unimpressed by surnames that made other people nervous.
“You understand that cooperating today doesn’t erase your past.”
“I didn’t ask it to.”
That answer surprised her.
Anton drove.
Kim and four federal tactical officers followed far behind.
Dominic stayed at the hospital with Grace under guard.
I carried a copy of Isabella’s cassette.
The original was already in federal evidence.
I had learned at least one thing from my family.
Never carry the only copy.
We reached the lake house at midnight.
The front door stood open.
Inside, the lights were on.
I entered.
An old record played in the living room.
Frank Sinatra.
My father’s favorite.
A bottle of his preferred Scotch waited on the table.
Two glasses.
One occupied chair faced the fireplace.
A man sat there.
For a second, my brain refused to recognize him.
Then he turned.
My father.
Alessandro Moretti.
Dead three years.
Except he wasn’t.
Older.
Thinner.
Scar across his jaw.
But alive.
I couldn’t move.
“Hello, son.”
Every emotion collided.
Grief.
Rage.
Relief.
Hatred.
I drew my gun.
His smile disappeared.
“Fair.”
“You’re dead.”
“Legally.”
“I buried you.”
“You buried someone.”
My hand shook.
“Whose body?”
“A man who had already died. Similar height. Dental records were changed.”
“You let us believe you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To survive your mother.”
The sentence almost made me laugh.
Instead, I punched him.
He hit the floor.
I grabbed his shirt.
“Grace spent months chained beneath our house while you hid here?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Your granddaughter was nearly stolen.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Isabella died because of secrets you kept.”
Pain moved across his face.
“That I know.”
I released him.
He sat slowly.
“Three years ago, I learned Evelyn had arranged an attempt on my life.”
“So you disappeared?”
“I needed her to believe she succeeded.”
“And you abandoned us.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
That somehow made me angrier.
“Why contact me now?”
“Because Victor found me.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Victor knew you were alive?”
“For eight months.”
“Why didn’t he expose you?”
“He wanted Evelyn first.”
The puzzle shifted.
Victor hadn’t only sought Dominic.
He had been working against Mother.
Using Grace.
Using me.
Using everyone.
My father poured Scotch with trembling hands.
“Your mother and Victor formed an alliance after my supposed death. Each believed they could betray the other.”
“And you watched.”
“I collected evidence.”
“While Grace suffered.”
“I didn’t know about Grace!”
His voice cracked.
“I discovered it three weeks ago. By then, Victor had moved his operation beyond my surveillance.”
I stared.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to verify it.”
He slid a drive across the table.
“Records. Calls. Payments. Videos.”
I didn’t touch it.
“Why steal the family money tonight?”
“To keep Evelyn from accessing it through proxies.”
“It isn’t yours.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
That was new.
My father had spent his life assuming everything belonged to him.
“Where is the money?”
“Escrow.”
“For what?”
“You.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I don’t want it.”
“Marco, we’re talking about hundreds of millions.”
“I know.”
“That empire belongs to you.”
“That empire put my pregnant wife in a cage.”
He looked down.
“Then destroy it.”
Silence.
I had expected argument.
Not permission.
“What happened to Isabella?”
His face changed.
“I failed her.”
“Specifics.”
“She came to me with evidence Evelyn had been secretly ordering violence in my name. I didn’t believe her.”
“Why?”
“Because believing her meant admitting I never understood my own wife.”
Cowardice often dressed itself as disbelief.
“What happened next?”
“Evelyn learned Isabella had spoken to me. She confined her.”
“In Basement Seven.”
“Yes.”
“You knew?”
“Not until later.”
“And when she died?”
My father closed his eyes.
“Isabella escaped the basement. She reached the lake house. Evelyn followed her. They argued on the dock.”
“You were there?”
“I arrived afterward.”
“After what?”
“She was in the water.”
My throat tightened.
“Was she alive?”
“For a few minutes.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“You could have saved her.”
“I tried.”
“Did Mother push her?”
He said nothing.
“Dad.”
“Yes.”
One word.
Twenty-two years.
My mother pushed my pregnant sister into a lake.
“What about Dominic?”
“Isabella had already given birth in secret weeks earlier. Evelyn arranged the pregnancy timeline so people believed Dominic was ours.”
“And Victor?”
“I threatened to kill him if he went near the boy.”
“So he spent twenty-two years thinking his son was your son.”
“Yes.”
“What kind of monsters were you people?”
My father looked at me.
“The kind I hope you stop becoming.”
Footsteps creaked above us.
I raised my weapon.
Father did too.
Someone was upstairs.
“That’s not one of mine,” he whispered.
A shot shattered the lamp.
We dove.
Men stormed the house from the back entrance.
Not FBI.
Victor’s men.
My father fired.
I moved behind the kitchen wall.
Three attackers.
Maybe four.
Then Agent Kim’s team hit from outside.
“Federal agents! Drop your weapons!”
Gunfire answered.
Glass exploded.
Someone ignited something in the hallway.
Smoke spread fast.
“They’re burning the house!” Dad shouted.
Of course.
Destroy the evidence.
We fought our way toward the rear door.
A beam collapsed.
My father shoved me aside.
It struck him across the shoulder.
He fell.
For one second, I looked at the man I had mourned for three years.
A younger version of myself would have left him.
A Moretti punished betrayal.
A husband and father understood something different.
Leaving him would make me exactly like them.
I went back.
I dragged him from beneath the beam.
Kim reached us outside.
“You brought a dead crime boss to a federal operation?”
“He was here when I arrived.”
My father coughed.
Kim stared at him.
“I’m going to need a larger notebook.”
Then an explosion tore through the lake house.
Fire climbed into the night.
My father watched sixty years of family secrets burn.
“You should have left me in there,” he said.
“No.”
“Why?”
I looked at him.
“Because Lily gets to grow up knowing her father ended the cycle.”
He stared.
“Lily?”
“My daughter.”
His eyes filled.
I felt nothing resembling forgiveness.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
But for the first time, regret made him look old.
Agent Kim took him into custody.
Before they placed him in the vehicle, he stopped.
“Marco.”
“What?”
“There’s one thing on the drive you need to see before Evelyn’s arraignment.”
“What?”
“A video from three days ago.”
“Of what?”
“Your mother meeting Victor.”
“That isn’t surprising.”
“No.”
May you like
My father’s eyes hardened.
“The person sitting with them is.”
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