Chapter 5 - THE THIRTEENTH MAN
Salvatore Moretti had not visited Chicago in four years.
He said his knees hated the flight.
He preferred Naples.
Preferred distance.
Preferred becoming a family legend while younger men handled consequences.
Now he was sitting in my living room drinking espresso.
Waiting to meet Lily.
I did not return immediately.
That was the first decision.
Old Vincent would have rushed home to confront him.
Instead, I stayed at the hospital until Lily fell asleep beside Emily.
Then I left two independent security officers posted outside the room—men chosen by Naomi, not Marcus, not my organization.
I told Emily exactly what I was doing.
“Going to question Salvatore.”
She frowned.
“With guns?”
“No.”
“Vincent.”
“Not mine.”
“Police?”
“Harper knows he’s there.”
She stared.
“You called police again?”
“I’m collecting hobbies.”
She almost smiled.
Then her face became serious.
“Do not bring Lily near him.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“I promise I will not bring Lily into contact with Salvatore until we know whether he is connected to First House.”
Specific.
She nodded.
At the estate, Salvatore stood when I entered.
Seventy-three.
Silver hair.
Dark suit.
Cane.
He looked exactly like memory.
“Vincenzo.”
Nobody called me that anymore.
I stopped ten feet away.
He opened his arms.
I did not move.
His smile faded.
“Ah.”
“Sit.”
He did.
Marcus stood near the doorway.
I looked at him.
“Out.”
His face tightened.
“Boss.”
“Naomi is monitoring.”
Salvatore laughed.
“A lawyer.”
“Yes.”
Marcus left.
He hated it.
Again.
I sat opposite my godfather.
“You heard about Lily.”
“Chicago talks.”
“She is not gossip.”
“No.”
His eyes softened.
“She looks like you.”
“How do you know?”
He smiled.
“Photographs.”
My body went cold.
“What photographs?”
Salvatore realized too late.
I saw it.
“Family has ways.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“What photographs?”
He sighed.
“Do not turn everything into interrogation.”
“I learned from you.”
“Poorly.”
“Photographs.”
Salvatore looked old suddenly.
“First House sent them.”
There.
Direct.
My hands went still.
“When?”
“Five years ago.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I had a daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And never told me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
I laughed.
Of course.
The universal excuse.
“From what?”
“From becoming controllable.”
“They already controlled me through a child I did not know existed.”
“They could not threaten you with what you did not know.”
The logic was monstrous.
Also strategic.
I hated that I understood it.
“And Lily?”
“Emily kept her safe.”
“So you accepted it.”
“Yes.”
“You watched my daughter grow through photographs.”
“Yes.”
“Why were you on the First House ledger?”
Salvatore looked at me.
“M13?”
I froze.
He knew the code.
“Yes.”
“Your father’s designation.”
“What was it?”
“Mediator.”
“Spy.”
“Sometimes.”
“Handler.”
“Sometimes.”
“For First House.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“How long?”
“Since before you were born.”
I sat back.
The room felt smaller.
My father.
Salvatore.
My family built alongside a shadow government for crime.
“Did Dad work for them?”
“He helped create them.”
Silence.
I laughed once.
“Of course.”
Salvatore continued.
“Chicago in the nineties was chaos. Police corruption. gang wars. mafia factions. politicians. First House was supposed to create boundaries.”
“By bribing everyone.”
“Yes.”
“By controlling arrests.”
“Yes.”
“By blackmailing families.”
His face tightened.
“It became worse.”
“Things always do.”
“Yes.”
“When did you leave?”
“I never fully did.”
At least honesty.
“What was your role with me?”
“To keep you stable.”
“Meaning?”
“To prevent war.”
“By hiding information?”
“Yes.”
“By using Emily?”
“I did not recruit Emily.”
“But you knew.”
“Eventually.”
“Did you order her monitored?”
“Yes.”
My hands curled.
“Did you threaten her?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Ward to make her disappear?”
Salvatore looked away.
That was answer enough.
“You did.”
“I told Elias to get her away before Price used the child.”
“You took my daughter.”
“I saved her.”
I stood.
He looked up.
“You saved no one.”
“Vincent.”
“You took a woman who loved me, convinced her I was compromised, and helped hide my child.”
“Because you were compromised.”
“By you.”
He flinched.
Good.
“You don’t get to create danger and then call the cage protection.”
Salvatore’s face hardened.
“Careful.”
There he was.
The old man.
The one who taught me fear.
I almost smiled.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m done being careful with men because they are family.”
Silence.
Naomi’s voice came through the conference speaker.
“She can hear you, Salvatore.”
He stared at the device.
“Cute.”
“Necessary,” I said.
He leaned back.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“You say that like it is clean.”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“I know truth is expensive.”
“Good.”
“Who is Daniel Price?”
“Ambitious parasite.”
“Too simple.”
Salvatore sighed.
“His father helped run First House financial enforcement. Daniel inherited contacts.”
“Does he run Chicago now?”
“Yes.”
“Judge Avery?”
“Board.”
“Velez?”
“Field enforcement.”
“Ward?”
“Former counsel.”
“Former?”
“As far as I know.”
“Do you trust him?”
“No.”
“Do you trust anyone?”
Salvatore smiled.
“You.”
I stared.
“That was your mistake.”
“No.”
His eyes softened.
“My mistake was believing love gave me permission to decide what you could survive.”
The sentence landed harder than I expected.
Maybe age had taught him something.
Maybe fear.
“Did you know Emily was collecting evidence?”
“Not until recently.”
“Did you tell Price?”
“No.”
“Did Marcus?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Salvatore looked at me.
“Ava Reed.”
Marcus’s daughter.
My chest tightened.
“She works for Price.”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“At first.”
“And now?”
“Hostage.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did Price take her?”
“Because she copied board data for Emily.”
I froze.
Emily had an inside source.
Ava.
“Marcus knows?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because Price threatened his daughter.”
Old logic.
Silence to protect.
I was tired of it.
“What does Price want now?”
“The ledger.”
“Emily has it.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he called me.”
My jaw tightened.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What did he ask?”
“For Lily.”
The room went ice cold.
“What?”
“He said the child was leverage.”
I took one step closer.
“What did you say?”
“No.”
My body stopped.
“You refused.”
“Yes.”
“Then why come here?”
“Because refusing him made me useless.”
Salvatore looked at me.
“I think I am next.”
For one terrible second, I saw not a legendary Moretti, not M13, not my father’s shadow.
An old man.
Afraid.
“Do you want protection?”
He laughed softly.
“From the boy I raised?”
“From police.”
His smile disappeared.
“You are serious.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then leave.”
He stared.
“What?”
“You cannot stay here without cooperating.”
“This is my family home.”
“No.”
I looked around.
“My home. Lily’s safe place now.”
The words surprised me.
I continued.
“You do not get grandfather privileges because of blood.”
Salvatore’s face tightened.
“She is my family.”
“Family is not automatic access.”
Naomi went silent.
Maybe even she liked that.
Salvatore looked toward the window.
“What would cooperation require?”
“Everything.”
“Names?”
“Yes.”
“Accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Your father?”
“He is dead.”
“His reputation.”
“Also dead.”
Salvatore looked at me.
For years, my father’s name had been sacred.
Apparently not anymore.
“You have changed.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“Emily?”
“Lily.”
That answer came instantly.
Salvatore almost smiled.
“Children do that.”
“You would know?”
His face changed.
Fair.
He had hidden from fatherhood in his own ways.
Salvatore stood slowly.
“I will speak to Harper.”
Naomi said through speaker, “With counsel.”
He looked annoyed.
“Still cute.”
Then Marcus appeared in the doorway without permission.
His face was pale.
“Vincent.”
“What?”
“My daughter called.”
Salvatore closed his eyes.
“From where?”
Marcus held out his phone.
“She got away.”
My pulse jumped.
“Where is she?”
“Union Station.”
“Police?”
“On the way.”
“Is Price with her?”
“No.”
“What did she say?”
Marcus swallowed.
“That Price is leaving Chicago.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Where?”
“She doesn’t know.”
Salvatore said, “He will go through Midway private terminal.”
Marcus looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because First House has used the same aviation company twenty years.”
I called Harper.
She answered.
“I already have units moving.”
Good.
“Salvatore is cooperating.”
Silence.
Then:
“I’m sorry, what?”
I smiled faintly.
“It’s a strange week.”
Before she could respond, Marcus’s phone rang again.
Ava.
He answered speaker.
A young woman’s voice.
Crying.
“Dad?”
“I’m here.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Is Mr. Moretti there?”
I spoke.
“Yes.”
She went quiet.
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I gave Price schedules.”
My chest tightened.
“What schedules?”
“Your meetings. Emily’s movements. Marcus’s security rotations.”
“Did you give him Lily’s location?”
“No.”
“Did you know about her?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
“How long?”
“Three years.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
His daughter knew about mine before I did.
The absurdity almost made me laugh.
Ava continued.
“Price made me believe First House was preventing bloodshed.”
Salvatore looked away.
Same recruitment pitch.
Order.
Stability.
Safety.
“What changed?” I asked.
“Emily.”
“What did she do?”
“She asked me one question.”
I waited.
“What?”
Ava’s voice broke.
“She asked who gets to decide how much freedom is worth a little less violence.”
The room went still.
Emily.
Always cutting through structures.
Ava continued.
“I didn’t know.”
“What did you do?”
“I copied the board ledger.”
“For Emily.”
“Yes.”
“Then Price found out.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you go to your father?”
“I was ashamed.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
I looked at him.
He looked broken.
Another child protecting a parent through silence.
Different age.
Same pattern.
I spoke carefully.
“Ava.”
“Yes?”
“You need to tell investigators everything.”
“I will.”
“Even if it implicates me.”
Silence.
Marcus looked at me.
Ava said, “It does.”
My chest tightened.
“Then especially that.”
Salvatore stared.
Naomi went silent.
Old Vincent would have asked what first.
New Vincent had learned maybe truth deserved less negotiation.
Harper’s voice came through my phone.
“We have a team at Union Station. Keep Ava on the line.”
Marcus nodded.
I looked at Salvatore.
“You and I are not finished.”
“No.”
“But not tonight.”
He nodded.
“Tonight we find Price.”
May you like
And for once, finding an enemy did not mean sending men to kill him.
It meant making sure he lived long enough to answer questions.
