Chapter 8 - The Fourth Car
The fourth vehicle became the key.
Luca spent two days tracing every person who had touched it.
It had been leased through an Ashwood subsidiary.
The paperwork led to a security contractor.
The contractor led to a retired driver.
The driver led to a storage facility in Queens.
Inside one forgotten locker sat a damaged dash camera.
The footage had no sound.
It did not need any.
At 2:16 p.m. on the day of the ambush, Camille Ashwood entered the black SUV.
She wore sunglasses.
A dark coat.
Her hair hidden beneath a scarf.
At 2:41, the SUV followed Massimo’s convoy.
At 2:53, gunfire began.
Camille watched from forty yards away.
Massimo stared at the screen.
His fiancée had been there.
She had watched him get shot.
For six months, Camille had told everyone she learned about the attack from Dean.
She had cried in the hospital.
She had held Massimo’s hand beside his bed.
She had slept in a chair for two nights.
She had promised him she would never leave.
Massimo replayed the footage.
Camille never exited the SUV.
She never called for help.
She simply watched.
Then, when the shooting ended, she left.
Luca looked at him.
“You want me to bring her in?”
“No.”
“Massimo—”
“No.”
His voice was absolute.
“If we take Camille now, Dean runs.”
“If we take Dean, Camille destroys documents.”
“We need both.”
Luca nodded reluctantly.
Massimo continued watching the screen.
Then he noticed something.
“Stop.”
Luca froze the footage.
“Back.”
The video rewound.
“Pause.”
Camille’s SUV sat behind the attack.
A man was in the passenger seat.
His face was partially visible.
Massimo recognized him.
Nathan Ashwood.
Camille’s brother.
Luca exhaled.
“So the family knew.”
“At least Nathan.”
Massimo leaned back.
It explained the medical paperwork.
The trust lawyers.
The Ashwood debt.
This was not merely Camille trying to marry wealth.
Her family was collapsing.
Massimo was their rescue plan.
Dead, he was useless.
Paralyzed and married, he was perfect.
Dean had likely wanted him dead originally.
Camille had wanted him alive but incapacitated.
Somewhere between those two plans, the arrangement changed.
Massimo needed proof of that moment.
Nina found it.
Not intentionally.
She was sitting on the library floor drawing pictures while Carla dusted the bookshelves.
Massimo entered.
Nina held up a crayon drawing.
“That’s you.”
Massimo studied the crooked stick figure.
It had enormous arms and tiny legs.
“You’ve been generous.”
Nina giggled.
“This is Mommy.”
Another figure.
“This is me.”
A tiny figure with brown circles for hair.
“And that?”
Massimo pointed to a black square.
“Lion.”
“Lion?”
“The mean man puts his phone there.”
Carla froze.
Massimo slowly looked at her.
“What lion?”
Nina pointed toward the hallway.
“The gold one.”
There were two bronze lion statues outside the east gallery.
Massimo rolled toward them.
Nina followed.
She tapped the base of the left statue.
“Here.”
Luca arrived minutes later.
Inside a loose panel beneath the statue was a burner phone.
Dean’s.
The messages were sparse.
Most had been deleted.
A technician recovered fragments.
One conversation occurred two days before the ambush.
Unknown sender:
The route is confirmed?
Dean:
Yes.
Unknown:
He cannot reach the meeting.
Dean:
Understood.
Then another message.
C wants him alive if possible.
Dean:
That changes the deal.
Unknown:
It changes nothing.
Dean:
It changes everything.
Massimo stared.
There it was.
Camille.
“C.”
Dean had expected an assassination.
Camille had changed the terms.
Another recovered exchange took place after the ambush.
Dean:
He survived.
Unknown:
Good.
Dean:
You call that good?
Unknown:
Hale will handle the rest.
Dean:
Then my price doubles.
Unknown:
Take it from the empire when it’s yours.
Massimo’s face hardened.
Luca continued scrolling.
The final recovered message was dated three days earlier.
Unknown:
Wedding must happen.
Dean:
It will.
Unknown:
After signatures, no mistakes.
Dean:
And the woman and child?
The next message had been deleted.
The technician recovered only five words.
Remove every unnecessary witness.
Carla’s face went white.
Massimo took the phone.
His eyes became terrifyingly calm.
“Luca.”
“Yes?”
“Double security around Carla and Nina.”
“Already done.”
“No.”
Massimo looked at him.
“Triple it.”
Nina tugged on his sleeve.
“Uncle Massimo?”
He looked down.
“Are you mad?”
Massimo studied the child who had found the pill.
Then the phone.
Then more truth than his entire security operation had uncovered in six months.
“No, little one.”
May you like
He closed his hand around the burner.
“I’m finally awake.”
