Chapter 20 - Pier Thirty-One
Rain fell over the East River.
Dante arrived at Pier Thirty-One with Victor and Marco.
No visible weapons.
Anna waited near an abandoned warehouse entrance.
Her face was wet with rain and tears.
“Daniel has Ferraro.”
Dante asked, “Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Armed?”
“Yes.”
Marco closed his eyes.
Victor continued walking.
Inside the warehouse, Gianni Ferraro sat tied to a chair.
His face was bruised.
Daniel stood behind him holding a pistol.
A laptop rested on a crate.
Dante stopped twenty feet away.
“Daniel.”
“Stay there.”
Marco obeyed.
Victor did not.
Daniel raised the weapon.
“I said stop.”
Victor stopped.
Ferraro spat blood.
“This lunatic thinks I killed his father.”
Daniel looked at him.
“You exploited the forgery.”
“I inherited a document.”
“You knew it was false.”
Ferraro smiled.
“Prove it.”
Daniel pointed toward Victor.
“He can.”
Ferraro’s smile vanished.
Dante understood.
This was not about execution.
Not yet.
Daniel wanted confession.
Victor stepped forward.
“I forged Salvatore’s signature.”
Ferraro stared.
Victor continued.
“Your father knew it was a bluff.”
Ferraro said nothing.
“You found the covenant six months ago.”
Still nothing.
“You designed the Harbor Compact to trigger it.”
Ferraro laughed softly.
“So?”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
There.
Not denial.
“So.”
Ferraro looked toward Dante.
“You would have signed because you’re desperate to prove you’re more civilized than your father.”
Dante absorbed the insult.
Ferraro continued.
“Salvatore understood power. You want respectability.”
“Thirty-one percent.”
“You would still have been rich.”
Marco stepped forward.
Daniel raised the gun.
“Back.”
Marco stopped.
Daniel looked at Ferraro.
“And the stolen eighteen million?”
Ferraro’s face changed.
Dante saw it.
Ferraro knew.
“I didn’t steal your money.”
“Who did?”
Ferraro looked toward Victor.
Victor frowned.
Ferraro smiled.
“You still haven’t figured out the woman.”
Anna froze.
Daniel turned.
“Mom?”
Ferraro laughed.
“Ask her.”
Marco looked at Anna.
“What is he talking about?”
Anna’s face collapsed.
Dante felt the final hidden layer before she spoke.
“The transfers were mine.”
Daniel stared.
“No.”
Anna began crying.
“I needed money to move the CROWN files.”
“You framed Marco.”
“I used his division because Daniel had already built access there.”
Marco’s voice was low.
“Why my fingerprint?”
“I didn’t.”
Daniel turned toward her.
“I did.”
Everyone went still.
Daniel lowered the gun slightly.
“I forged the ledger.”
Anna stared at her son.
“You told me that was Ferraro.”
“He was already exploiting us.”
Dante looked from mother to son.
The conspiracy had never been one conspiracy.
It was several people using each other.
Anna used Daniel’s access to move money.
Daniel used Anna’s revenge to pursue CROWN.
Victor used Daniel to recover the covenant.
Ferraro used surveillance stolen from Daniel to hide his financial trap.
Each person believed he or she was the author.
No one controlled the whole disaster.
That, Dante realized, was Salvatore’s true legacy.
A world where everybody manipulated everybody because trust was considered weakness.
Daniel lifted the pistol toward Ferraro again.
“He still deserves it.”
Marco stepped forward despite the weapon.
“No.”
“He tried to steal everything.”
“Yes.”
“He used my father’s death.”
“Yes.”
“He was going to destroy you.”
Marco’s voice broke.
“He doesn’t get to turn you into a murderer.”
Daniel stared at him.
“You are one.”
Marco absorbed the blow.
“Yes.”
Anna whispered, “Marco.”
He did not look away from Daniel.
“I killed men for the Morettis. I told myself it was loyalty. Sometimes I told myself it was survival. None of that changed what I did.”
Daniel’s hand shook.
Marco continued.
“If you pull that trigger, you will spend the rest of your life inventing reasons it was necessary.”
Daniel’s eyes filled.
“That’s what you did?”
“Yes.”
“And did it work?”
“No.”
The pistol lowered another inch.
Ferraro suddenly lunged.
He had loosened one wrist from the rope.
He hit Daniel’s arm.
The gun fired.
The bullet struck the ceiling.
Dante moved toward Ferraro.
Marco moved toward Daniel.
Victor pulled Anna backward.
Ferraro grabbed the pistol from the floor.
He aimed at Dante.
Victor stepped between them.
A second shot exploded.
Victor jerked.
He fell.
Marco tackled Ferraro.
Daniel kicked the gun away.
Dante dropped beside Victor.
Blood spread through Victor’s shirt.
“Call an ambulance!”
Anna already was.
Victor looked up at Dante.
“Did I finally tell the truth?”
Dante pressed both hands against the wound.
“Shut up.”
Victor smiled weakly.
“Your father hated when you said that.”
“Victor.”
“Don’t become him.”
Dante’s hands were covered in blood.
Victor’s eyes fluttered.
Sirens grew louder outside.
Dante held pressure.
For once, there was nothing commanding in his voice.
“Stay with me.”
Victor looked toward Marco and Daniel.
Uncle and nephew stood beside each other while Ferraro lay restrained on the concrete.
Victor whispered one final sentence before losing consciousness.
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“Let the truth cost what it costs.”
Then his eyes closed.
