CHAPTER 8 — THE MAN WHO DIED TWELVE YEARS AGO
The first thing Vincent noticed was the clock.
11:34 p.m.
Twenty-six minutes.
He stared at the glowing numbers on the dashboard.
Then at the photograph of Sofia.
She was standing beside an old stone mausoleum.
Snow covered the ground around her.
Daniel stood at her side.
Emily was nowhere in sight.
Vincent's chest tightened.
His daughter was missing again.
His wife was waiting.
And someone had given him less than half an hour to reach them.
He started the engine.
But before he could pull away, his phone rang.
Dominic.
Vincent answered.
“Talk.”
“Where are you?”
“Mercer Yard.”
“You need to come back.”
“No.”
“Vincent—”
“I have Sofia's location.”
Silence.
Then Dominic said:
“That isn't Sofia.”
Vincent's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“What?”
“The photograph was manipulated.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I found the original.”
Vincent stared at the phone.
“Where?”
“In Bellamy's office.”
“Send it.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm not alone.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Who is with you?”
A long pause.
Then Dominic whispered:
“Isabella.”
Vincent's expression hardened.
“Put her on.”
“She can't.”
“Why?”
“She was attacked.”
Vincent's heart stopped.
“By who?”
“We don't know.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then get her out.”
“I tried.”
Dominic's voice became strained.
“The doors are locked.”
Vincent immediately turned the car around.
“I'm coming.”
“Don't.”
Vincent stopped.
“Why?”
“Because there's another problem.”
“What?”
Dominic took a breath.
“Your mother is here.”
Vincent's blood went cold.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In Bellamy's office.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Is she alone?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Dominic's voice dropped.
“Your father.”
Vincent's entire body went still.
The car continued moving through the snow.
He barely noticed.
“What did you say?”
“Your father is alive.”
Vincent's breathing stopped.
“No.”
“I saw him.”
“No.”
“I know what you're thinking.”
“You don't know anything.”
“I saw the man.”
Vincent's voice became a whisper.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
Dominic replied:
“Then somebody has been sitting in his grave for twelve years.”
Bellamy's office was dark.
Isabella sat on the floor.
Her wrist was bleeding.
Dominic stood beside her.
Evelyn Moretti stood across the room.
The gun in her hand never moved.
The fourth person remained in the shadows.
Tall.
Older.
Silver-haired.
Still.
Isabella stared at him.
She couldn't breathe.
“It's not possible.”
The man stepped forward.
The light from the window touched his face.
Isabella whispered:
“Richard Moretti.”
Vincent's father.
The man whose funeral had been attended by every major criminal family in New York.
The man whose death had supposedly been caused by a massive heart attack.
The man whose ashes had been buried beneath a marble tomb.
Alive.
Standing six feet away.
Richard Moretti looked at Isabella.
“You should never have kept that card.”
Isabella's hand tightened around the memory card.
“You murdered Sofia.”
Richard's expression remained calm.
“No.”
“You ordered her disappearance.”
“No.”
“You threatened her.”
“Yes.”
Isabella stared.
“Why?”
Richard walked toward the desk.
“Because she discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That my son was never supposed to inherit everything.”
Isabella frowned.
“Vincent.”
Richard nodded.
“Vincent was useful.”
“Useful?”
“He was ambitious.”
“He was loyal.”
“He was predictable.”
Isabella's eyes filled with disgust.
“You destroyed your own son.”
Richard smiled faintly.
“Parents make sacrifices.”
Evelyn lowered her weapon slightly.
“He's right.”
Isabella looked at her.
“You helped him?”
Evelyn's eyes became cold.
“I protected this family.”
“You kidnapped children.”
“We protected them.”
“You erased their identities.”
“We gave them new lives.”
“You killed people.”
Evelyn didn't answer.
Isabella looked at Richard.
“And Emily?”
Richard's face changed.
For the first time, something like anger appeared.
“Emily was a mistake.”
Isabella froze.
“A mistake?”
“She was born when Vincent was supposed to be incapable of having children.”
“What?”
Richard's voice became quiet.
“The accident eight years ago wasn't an accident.”
Isabella stared.
“What accident?”
“The attack on Vincent.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“You attacked him?”
Richard looked at him.
“You weren't supposed to be here.”
Dominic raised his weapon.
“Answer me.”
Richard smiled.
“You always were your cousin's shadow.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Did you attack Vincent?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To prevent the child.”
Isabella whispered:
“Emily.”
Richard nodded.
“But Sofia interfered.”
“So you took the child.”
“No.”
Richard looked toward Evelyn.
“She did.”
Evelyn's eyes hardened.
“I did what I had to.”
Isabella shook her head.
“You separated a mother from her daughter.”
Evelyn replied:
“I saved them both.”
“From what?”
Evelyn looked at Richard.
“From him.”
Richard's expression darkened.
“Careful.”
Evelyn didn't lower her eyes.
“You wanted Emily dead.”
Richard said nothing.
Evelyn continued.
“You wanted the trust destroyed.”
“And you protected the trust.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised my husband.”
Richard stared at her.
“Your husband is dead.”
Evelyn smiled.
“No.”
She looked at Dominic.
“Your uncle survived.”
Dominic's eyes widened.
“Who?”
Evelyn looked toward the hidden doorway.
A man stepped out.
Older.
Scarred.
Walking with a cane.
Dominic's face turned white.
Vincent's younger brother.
Michael Moretti.
Alive.
Vincent drove like a man running from death.
He called Dominic again.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
He called Grace.
No answer.
He called the estate security chief.
Nothing.
Every line was dead.
Then his dashboard screen flickered.
The navigation system changed.
A new destination appeared.
ST. MARY'S CEMETERY
Vincent frowned.
He hadn't entered it.
The system spoke automatically.
“Destination updated.”
Vincent slammed the brakes.
The car stopped.
Snow drifted across the windshield.
He stared at the screen.
Then the radio came alive.
Static.
A woman's voice.
“Vincent.”
Sofia.
He grabbed the radio.
“Sofia?”
“Don't go to the cemetery.”
“Where are you?”
“You need to listen.”
“I'm listening.”
“Your father is alive.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“I know.”
Silence.
Then Sofia whispered:
“No.”
Vincent opened his eyes.
“I've seen proof.”
“That's not your father.”
Vincent froze.
“What?”
“It's a man wearing his identity.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'll explain when you find me.”
“Where?”
“Under the city.”
Vincent stared.
“Where?”
“Below the old courthouse.”
“That's abandoned.”
“I know.”
“Why are you there?”
“Because Bellamy kept the children there.”
Vincent's heart stopped.
“The eleven?”
“All of them.”
“Are they alive?”
Sofia hesitated.
“Some.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“How many?”
“Seven.”
Vincent swallowed.
“Seven are alive?”
“Yes.”
“And Emily?”
Sofia's voice broke.
“Emily is not with me.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
The radio crackled.
Someone shouted in the background.
Sofia gasped.
“Vince…”
“What?”
“They found me.”
Vincent gripped the steering wheel.
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
“I'll find you.”
“Vince, please.”
Her voice became desperate.
“Don't come alone.”
“You told me to.”
“I was wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because the person I trusted…”
A pause.
“…was never who I thought.”
Vincent's heart sank.
“Who?”
Sofia whispered:
“Dominic.”
The radio went dead.
Dominic stood in Bellamy's office.
He stared at the man with the cane.
Michael.
His supposedly dead uncle.
“Why?”
Michael looked at him.
“Why what?”
“Why did you disappear?”
Michael's expression softened.
“Because I was ordered to.”
“By whom?”
Richard.
Dominic turned toward him.
“You ordered Michael to disappear?”
Richard nodded.
“Why?”
“To protect the bloodline.”
Dominic shook his head.
“From what?”
“From itself.”
Michael stepped forward.
“Your father discovered the children.”
Vincent's father.
Richard.
Michael.
Bellamy.
Evelyn.
All connected.
Dominic stared.
“My father knew?”
“Yes.”
“And he wanted to stop it.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he fake his death?”
Michael looked at Evelyn.
“Because Richard wanted him dead.”
Evelyn lowered her gun.
“He found out what Richard was doing.”
“And?”
“Richard tried to kill him.”
Michael nodded.
“I survived.”
Richard's expression remained cold.
“You betrayed me.”
Michael laughed bitterly.
“You murdered our father.”
Richard's eyes narrowed.
“He was weak.”
“He was your father.”
“He would have destroyed everything.”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
“He would have destroyed you.”
Richard said nothing.
Michael looked at Isabella.
“Give me the card.”
Isabella tightened her grip.
“No.”
Michael nodded.
“I expected that.”
He looked toward Evelyn.
“Take it.”
Evelyn hesitated.
Michael stared at her.
“Evelyn.”
She lowered her weapon.
“No.”
Richard looked at her.
“What?”
“I won't.”
Evelyn's voice trembled.
“I've done enough.”
Richard's expression became murderous.
“You think you can walk away?”
“Yes.”
“You can't.”
“I can.”
Richard stepped toward her.
Evelyn raised the gun again.
For the first time, Richard looked uncertain.
“Put it down.”
“No.”
“You won't shoot me.”
Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
“I should have years ago.”
Michael stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Richard stared at him.
Then smiled.
“You still believe you can save this family.”
Michael replied:
“No.”
He looked toward the door.
“I believe Vincent can.”
Vincent reached the old courthouse at 11:52 p.m.
Eight minutes remained.
The building had been abandoned for decades.
Windows broken.
Doors chained.
But one entrance stood open.
Vincent stepped inside.
His flashlight cut through darkness.
The smell hit him first.
Cold concrete.
Rust.
Mold.
And something else.
Bleach.
He followed the corridor.
Then heard crying.
A child.
Vincent ran.
He reached a large underground chamber.
Rows of metal beds.
Medical equipment.
Empty cages.
Photographs.
Files.
The room looked like a hidden laboratory.
On the wall were eleven names.
Seven crossed out.
Four still active.
Emily Carter.
Daniel Moretti.
Three others.
Vincent's blood ran cold.
Then he saw Sofia.
She stood behind a glass partition.
Alive.
Thin.
Pale.
Her hair shorter.
A scar crossed her cheek.
Vincent stopped.
“Sofia.”
She looked up.
For three years, he had dreamed of this moment.
He had imagined anger.
Questions.
Accusations.
Instead, he could barely breathe.
“Sofia.”
She pressed her hand against the glass.
“Vince.”
He ran toward her.
The door was locked.
He tried the handle.
Nothing.
“Sofia!”
“Don't.”
“I'm getting you out.”
“Listen.”
Vincent looked at her.
Her eyes were full of tears.
“I never left you.”
“I know.”
“I never stopped loving you.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to come home.”
Vincent's voice broke.
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because they had Emily.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Sofia continued:
“They told me if I came back, they would kill her.”
“Who?”
“Richard.”
Vincent froze.
“My father.”
Sofia nodded.
“And Bellamy.”
“What about Isabella?”
Sofia hesitated.
“She helped me.”
Vincent stared.
“What?”
“She was never your enemy.”
“Then why did she stay with Bellamy?”
“Because she was trying to destroy him from inside.”
Vincent's eyes widened.
“The pendant.”
“She took it from me.”
“Why?”
“To make you think she had replaced me.”
Vincent looked down.
The truth was becoming unbearable.
Then Sofia whispered:
“Vince…”
“What?”
“Don't open this door.”
“Why?”
“Because it's wired.”
Vincent stopped.
He looked down.
A thin wire ran beneath the threshold.
Explosives.
His expression changed.
Sofia stepped backward.
“Get out.”
“I'm not leaving you.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“Vince!”
A voice echoed through the underground chamber.
“She's right.”
Vincent turned.
Charles Bellamy stepped out of the darkness.
Gun in hand.
Blood covered his shirt.
He smiled.
“Welcome home.”
Vincent raised his weapon.
“You're finished.”
Bellamy laughed.
“No.”
He pointed toward the ceiling.
“I'm only beginning.”
A screen came alive.
The faces of the seven surviving children appeared.
Then Emily.
Bellamy looked at Vincent.
“Choose.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Choose what?”
“Sofia…”
Bellamy pointed.
“Or Emily.”
Vincent stared.
Bellamy smiled.
“You only get one.”
Sofia shook her head.
“Don't listen to him.”
Bellamy pressed a button.
The timer appeared.
00:05:00
Five minutes.
Vincent looked at Sofia.
Then at the screen showing Emily.
His wife.
His daughter.
Two lives.
One choice.
Bellamy whispered:
“Let's see what kind of father you really are.”
Vincent lowered his weapon.
His voice became terrifyingly calm.
“You made one mistake.”
Bellamy smiled.
“What?”
“You assumed I would choose.”
Vincent looked toward the ceiling.
Then toward the emergency power panel.
He smiled.
“I built this entire empire.”
Bellamy frowned.
“I know every weakness.”
Vincent fired.
Not at Bellamy.
At the power panel.
The lights exploded.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Sofia screamed.
Bellamy fired blindly.
Vincent moved.
One shot.
Two.
Three.
Then silence.
When the emergency lights returned—
Bellamy was gone.
The glass door was open.
Sofia was still alive.
But Emily's screen had disappeared.
Vincent ran toward Sofia.
She grabbed his arm.
“Vince.”
“What?”
Her eyes were terrified.
“Bellamy took Emily.”
Vincent froze.
Then the speakers came alive.
Bellamy's voice echoed through the room.
“You wanted both.”
A pause.
“Now you get neither.”
Vincent stared into the darkness.
Sofia grabbed his hand.
“Don't give up.”
Vincent looked at her.
For the first time in three years, he held his wife again.
But there was no relief.
Only rage.
Because somewhere in the city, his daughter was being taken farther away.
And Bellamy had one final advantage.
He knew where Daniel was.
He knew where the other children were.
And he knew something Vincent didn't.
The man who had been pretending to be Richard Moretti wasn't an impostor.
He was Richard.
The real Richard.
And he had just taken Emily to the place Vincent feared most.
The Moretti family cemetery.
Where the graves of the dead hid the evidence of the living.
The clock reached midnight.
The five-minute timer stopped.
May you like
Then every screen in the underground chamber displayed a single sentence:
THE LAST HEIR IS COMING HOME.
