Chapter 8 — The Gun Behind Him
Gabriel turned slowly.
Vincent stood in the doorway.
Rainwater ran from his coat.
His gun was raised.
The barrel pointed directly at Gabriel's chest.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Chloe was on the floor behind Gabriel.
Clara was crouched behind the stone pillar.
Salvatore stood beneath the broken stained-glass window.
And Vincent—
the man who had spent years standing beside Gabriel—
had a clear shot.
Gabriel's voice was calm.
“Vincent.”
Vincent didn't answer.
Gabriel tightened his grip on his own weapon.
“Put it down.”
Vincent shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Chloe stared at him.
“Why are you pointing a gun at him?”
Vincent's eyes moved toward her.
Then back to Gabriel.
“Because if I don't, he dies.”
Gabriel frowned.
“What?”
Vincent took one step into the church.
“You heard me.”
Salvatore smiled.
“That sounds like the Vincent I remember.”
Gabriel's eyes hardened.
“You know him?”
Salvatore laughed.
“I knew his father.”
Vincent's expression changed.
“Don't.”
Salvatore tilted his head.
“Still ashamed?”
Vincent's jaw clenched.
“Shut up.”
Gabriel looked at Vincent.
“What's he talking about?”
Vincent didn't answer.
“Vincent.”
Still nothing.
Gabriel's voice became colder.
“Look at me.”
Vincent did.
Gabriel saw something he had never seen in his lieutenant's eyes before.
Fear.
Not fear of dying.
Fear of failing.
Gabriel slowly lowered his gun.
Vincent immediately shouted:
“Don't!”
Gabriel stopped.
Vincent's voice shook.
“Don't move.”
Chloe whispered:
“Gabriel…”
He glanced at her.
Then at Vincent.
“There's something in this room.”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A second shooter.”
Gabriel looked toward Salvatore.
Salvatore smiled.
“Finally.”
Gabriel's eyes scanned the church.
Broken pews.
Stone pillars.
Dark balconies.
Old confession booths.
Nothing.
Then—
a faint metallic click.
Gabriel heard it.
So did Vincent.
So did Clara.
Salvatore didn't move.
Vincent shouted:
“DOWN!”
A bullet tore through the air.
Vincent fired at the same instant.
The two shots collided with the silence.
Gabriel dropped.
Chloe screamed.
A bullet struck the stone altar.
Dust exploded.
Gabriel grabbed Chloe and pulled her behind a pew.
“Stay down.”
“Where did it come from?”
“Balcony.”
Vincent fired twice toward the upper level.
A shadow moved.
Then disappeared.
Salvatore calmly stepped behind a pillar.
Clara ran toward the opposite wall.
Gabriel looked at Vincent.
“You knew.”
Vincent nodded.
“There were two shooters.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Salvatore laughed from the darkness.
“I do.”
Gabriel shouted:
“Who?”
Salvatore's answer came quietly.
“Your father's killer.”
The church went silent.
Gabriel looked up.
“Come out.”
Salvatore smiled.
“You've been looking for him for fifteen years.”
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“And you know who it is?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
Salvatore shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Gabriel raised his weapon.
“I'm done playing.”
Salvatore's smile disappeared.
“So was your father.”
Another gunshot.
This time, it came from the balcony.
The bullet struck the wooden pew beside Chloe.
She ducked.
Gabriel pulled her lower.
Vincent fired again.
A body fell from the balcony.
It crashed onto the floor.
Everyone froze.
Vincent slowly approached.
Gabriel followed.
The man was wearing black.
A mask covered his face.
He was dead.
Vincent crouched.
Checked the pulse.
Nothing.
Gabriel looked at him.
“Who sent him?”
Vincent removed the man's mask.
His face was unfamiliar.
But there was a small tattoo behind his ear.
A black circle.
Inside it—
the number seven.
Chloe saw it.
“Seven.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“What?”
She pointed.
“Seven.”
Gabriel's face changed.
The same symbol had appeared on Beatrice's pearl necklace.
The same number had been hidden in the underground room.
The same symbol had been found in Leo's documents.
Gabriel crouched beside the body.
He studied the tattoo.
Then looked toward Beatrice's necklace, which Chloe had taken from the underground room.
His voice became quiet.
“It's not Salvatore's symbol.”
Clara stepped closer.
“No.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Then whose is it?”
Clara didn't answer.
Vincent did.
“Your father's.”
Gabriel stared at him.
“My father never had a symbol.”
Vincent shook his head.
“He did.”
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because he hid it.”
“From whom?”
Vincent looked at Salvatore.
“Everyone.”
Salvatore laughed.
“Your father was paranoid.”
Vincent shook his head.
“He was right.”
Gabriel stared at the tattoo.
“What was he hiding?”
Vincent stood.
“A second organization.”
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“What organization?”
Vincent looked at Chloe.
“The Seven.”
Chloe's heart dropped.
“The Seven?”
Vincent nodded.
“Seven men who controlled the most important pieces of your father's empire.”
Gabriel frowned.
“My father controlled everything.”
“No.”
Vincent shook his head.
“He only appeared to.”
Gabriel's expression hardened.
“Who were they?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Bankers.”
“Names.”
“Politicians.”
“Names.”
“Judges.”
“Names.”
Vincent looked at Salvatore.
“And one of them was a member of the Costello family.”
Gabriel's eyes went to his uncle.
Salvatore smiled.
“Not me.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“Who?”
Salvatore's smile faded.
“Your father.”
Gabriel stopped.
“What?”
“Your father created The Seven.”
Vincent nodded.
Gabriel looked at him.
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect the empire.”
“From whom?”
Vincent's eyes moved toward Salvatore.
“People like him.”
Salvatore laughed.
“You still believe that story?”
Vincent looked at him.
“I know the story.”
“No.”
Salvatore's voice became colder.
“You know the version I allowed you to know.”
Chloe stood slowly.
She looked at Clara.
“What's The Seven?”
Clara answered:
“A secret network.”
“Inside the Costello family?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Control.”
Chloe frowned.
“Control of what?”
“Money.”
“That's it?”
“No.”
Clara looked at Gabriel.
“Information.”
Gabriel understood.
“The ledger.”
Clara nodded.
“The hidden accounts.”
“The shell companies.”
“The judges.”
“The police.”
“The ports.”
“The unions.”
Gabriel's expression became darker.
“The Seven controlled all of it.”
“Yes.”
“And my father created them?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Salvatore want him dead?”
Clara hesitated.
“Because your father wanted to destroy The Seven.”
Gabriel stared.
That didn't make sense.
“My father created it.”
“Yes.”
“Then why destroy it?”
“Because he discovered what it had become.”
Gabriel looked at Vincent.
“Tell me.”
Vincent sighed.
“Your father realized The Seven had stopped protecting the family.”
“And?”
“They were protecting themselves.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“Who was leading them?”
Vincent said nothing.
Gabriel grabbed his collar.
“Who?”
Vincent looked at him.
“I don't know.”
Gabriel pushed him away.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father never told me.”
“Then who knew?”
Vincent looked toward Clara.
“Your mother.”
Chloe froze.
“My mother?”
Vincent nodded.
“She knew the names.”
“How?”
“Because she was inside the organization.”
Chloe shook her head.
“No.”
Clara looked at her.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“She wasn't a member.”
“Then what?”
Clara took a breath.
“She was an informant.”
Chloe stared.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“An informant for whom?”
Clara answered:
“Your father.”
Gabriel looked at Chloe.
“Your mother was helping my father expose The Seven.”
Chloe's voice was barely audible.
“And Salvatore knew?”
“Yes.”
“That's why he wanted her?”
“Yes.”
“That's why she disappeared?”
Clara nodded.
“And that's why she lied about my father.”
“Yes.”
Chloe shook her head.
“I don't understand.”
Clara stepped closer.
“Your mother knew Salvatore was planning to kill Gabriel's father.”
“But she didn't stop him?”
“She tried.”
“Then why did he die?”
“Because she was too late.”
Chloe's eyes filled.
“And my father?”
“The man who raised you?”
“Yes.”
Clara looked down.
“He knew the truth.”
Chloe stared.
“He knew I wasn't his daughter?”
“Yes.”
Her face crumpled.
“He knew?”
“Yes.”
“And he still raised me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Clara's voice softened.
“Because he loved you.”
Chloe covered her mouth.
For a moment, everything stopped.
The guns.
The church.
Salvatore.
Gabriel.
The secrets.
All of it.
She remembered her father's hands.
Grease under his fingernails.
The smell of engine oil.
The way he used to knock twice on her bedroom door.
The way he called her “kid.”
The way he always said:
“Blood doesn't make a family.”
She had thought it was something fathers said.
Now she wondered.
Maybe it had been a confession.
Maybe he had known exactly what he meant.
Chloe whispered:
“He knew.”
Gabriel stood beside her.
“He still chose you.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Your father.”
Gabriel's voice was quiet.
“He chose to be your father.”
Chloe looked down.
For the first time that night, she understood something.
The truth about her blood did not erase the truth about her life.
The man who raised her was still her father.
Maybe even more because he had chosen her knowing everything.
She wiped her eyes.
Then looked at Clara.
“What happened to my mother?”
Clara didn't answer.
Chloe stepped closer.
“Where is she?”
Clara looked at Salvatore.
Salvatore's face became unreadable.
Chloe turned.
“You know.”
He smiled.
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“Alive.”
Chloe stopped.
Gabriel's eyes sharpened.
“Where?”
Salvatore looked at Chloe.
“You'll see her soon.”
“Where?”
“I said you'll see her.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“Stop playing games.”
Salvatore looked at him.
“You're very much like your father.”
Gabriel raised his gun.
“Don't compare me to him.”
“Why?”
“Because you killed him.”
Salvatore's expression changed.
“I didn't.”
Gabriel froze.
Salvatore continued:
“I wanted him dead.”
He paused.
“But I didn't kill him.”
Gabriel stared.
“Then who did?”
Salvatore looked toward Vincent.
“Ask him.”
Every eye turned toward Vincent.
Vincent closed his eyes.
Chloe whispered:
“Vincent?”
He didn't answer.
Gabriel walked toward him.
“You know.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Who killed my father?”
Vincent swallowed.
“I saw him.”
Gabriel's voice became dangerously quiet.
“When?”
“The night he died.”
“Where?”
“Outside the hospital.”
“Who was there?”
“Your father.”
“My mother.”
“Salvatore.”
“And?”
Vincent looked at Chloe.
“You.”
Chloe's face went pale.
“I wasn't there.”
“You were.”
“I was fifteen.”
“You were born.”
Vincent shook his head.
“Not you.”
He pointed toward the photograph.
“Your sister.”
Clara froze.
Gabriel looked at her.
“You were there?”
Clara nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Vincent continued.
“Your mother brought Clara to the hospital.”
“Why?”
“Because she had been shot.”
Clara's eyes filled.
“I was seventeen.”
Chloe looked at her.
“Seventeen?”
“Yes.”
Vincent nodded.
“She was wounded.”
“By who?”
Vincent looked at Salvatore.
Salvatore didn't move.
Then Vincent said:
“By the man who killed Gabriel's father.”
Gabriel stared.
“Who?”
Vincent's voice dropped.
“I couldn't see his face.”
Gabriel grabbed him.
“You said you saw him.”
“I saw him shoot.”
“Then how could you not see his face?”
“Because he wore your father's coat.”
Gabriel froze.
“What?”
Vincent continued.
“He walked into the hospital wearing your father's coat.”
“Why?”
“To make it look like your father killed Salvatore.”
Gabriel's expression changed.
“Then he shot my father.”
“Yes.”
“And escaped.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Vincent looked at him.
“Because your father ordered me not to.”
Gabriel stared.
“He was dying.”
“Yes.”
“And he still told you to keep silent?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vincent looked toward the recorder.
“Because he knew the killer was still inside the family.”
The church fell silent.
Gabriel slowly turned toward Salvatore.
Salvatore shook his head.
“Not me.”
Gabriel turned toward Clara.
“Not me.”
Clara raised her hands.
“I didn't kill him.”
Gabriel looked at Vincent.
“Then who?”
Vincent's face became grim.
“Your father gave me one name.”
Gabriel waited.
Vincent whispered:
“Beatrice.”
Chloe's breath caught.
Gabriel stared.
“My mother?”
Vincent nodded.
“Your father said if he died…”
He paused.
“…don't trust Beatrice.”
Gabriel stepped backward.
The world seemed to tilt.
His mother.
The woman who had spent the entire night warning him.
The woman who had brought Chloe to him.
The woman who had warned him about Vincent.
The woman who had told them about Leo.
The woman who had given them the key.
The woman who had insisted they come to this church.
Beatrice.
Gabriel looked toward the entrance.
She was not there.
His blood went cold.
“Where is my mother?”
Nobody answered.
Chloe suddenly noticed something.
Beatrice's pearl necklace was gone.
She touched her pocket.
Empty.
She had left it in the car.
Then her phone vibrated.
One message.
From an unknown number.
She opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Beatrice was sitting alone in a dark room.
Her hands were bound.
Her mouth was covered.
And behind her stood a man.
The photograph had been taken only seconds earlier.
Underneath it was one sentence:
SHE TOLD YOU HALF THE TRUTH.
Chloe's heart pounded.
Gabriel saw the photograph.
His face went completely white.
Then the phone vibrated again.
Another message.
MIDNIGHT IS NOT THE DEADLINE.
A pause.
Then:
IT'S THE BEGINNING.
The church clock began to strike.
Eleven fifty-nine.
One bell.
Two.
Three.
Gabriel looked toward Salvatore.
For the first time, Salvatore wasn't smiling.
He was looking at the church doors.
Because somewhere outside—
engines had begun to roar.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then dozens.
Clara whispered:
“They're here.”
Gabriel raised his gun.
“Who?”
Clara looked at him.
“The Seven.”
The final bell struck.
May you like
Midnight.
And every light in St. Mary's Church went out.
