Chapter 4 - The Secret Beneath St. Catherine’s
We were back at the mansion in twenty-two minutes.
I called ahead once.
“Lock every door. Nobody leaves.”
That was all.
When we arrived, four boys were asleep together on Sofia's old sitting-room carpet.
They had apparently refused the beds.
Elena told me they did that when they were frightened.
They made a square from blankets and slept close enough to touch.
I stood in the doorway watching them.
My sons.
The word still felt impossible.
Mateo slept with one hand beneath his cheek.
Luca's foot rested against Nico's leg.
Gabriel held the dinosaur Mateo had lent me earlier.
Four children Sofia had carried.
Four children whose first steps I had missed.
First words.
First birthdays.
Illnesses.
Nightmares.
Christmas mornings.
Five years had been stolen from me.
And I didn't yet know by whom.
Daniel Rourke arrived at 11:14 p.m.
My men brought him through the service entrance.
He was sixty-one, thin, gray-haired, exhausted.
I recognized him from the gate footage.
He looked at me without surprise.
“Moretti.”
“Rourke.”
His eyes moved to Victor, who had returned at my request.
Then Samuel Vale.
Yes.
I had invited Samuel too.
I wanted both men where I could see them.
Samuel was sixty-three, polished and composed, wearing a charcoal suit despite the hour.
He had represented my family since before I understood what lawyers did.
When I told him there were children in the house, he had displayed exactly the right amount of surprise.
Not too much.
Not too little.
That worried me.
Rourke saw him.
For half a second, fear flashed across his face.
Samuel noticed.
“Daniel,” he said calmly.
Rourke said nothing.
I gestured toward a chair.
“Sit.”
He did.
“Why were you at my gate?”
“To warn you.”
“By arriving with three SUVs?”
“Those weren't all mine.”
The room went silent.
“Explain.”
“I was in the first vehicle. The other two followed me.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Samuel gave a small laugh.
“Convenient.”
Rourke looked at him.
“Still cleaning up other people's messes, Sam?”
Samuel's smile disappeared.
I stepped between them.
“Five years ago, you found my wife at a clinic.”
Rourke looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I'd been hired to follow her.”
“By Victor?”
Victor stiffened.
Rourke shook his head.
“No.”
I looked at Samuel.
He remained still.
“Who hired you?”
Rourke swallowed.
“I never met the client.”
“That's not an answer.”
“Payments came through Halcyon.”
Samuel said, “Halcyon was a legitimate corporate structure.”
Rourke laughed bitterly.
“You created it.”
“As counsel.”
“For whom?”
Samuel didn't answer.
Rourke leaned forward.
“I followed Sofia for six weeks. I thought she was meeting someone.”
My fists tightened.
“She was pregnant.”
“I discovered that later.”
“You found the clinic.”
“Yes.”
“And the children?”
“I saw Elena carrying one infant through a side corridor. Then another nurse came behind her with two bassinets. That's when I realized what was happening.”
“Why didn't you report it?”
“I did.”
“To whom?”
Rourke looked at Samuel.
Samuel stood.
“This is absurd.”
“Sit down,” I said.
“Alejandro, this man has spent his career lying for money.”
“Sit.”
Samuel slowly returned to his chair.
Rourke continued.
“The client wanted proof. I sent photographs.”
My stomach turned.
“Of my sons?”
“Of the clinic.”
“Same thing.”
“Yes.”
I moved closer.
“Did you kill Sofia?”
“No.”
“Did you cause her crash?”
“No.”
“Did you know it would happen?”
Rourke hesitated.
That hesitation nearly ended the conversation.
Victor stepped forward.
“Alejandro.”
I stopped.
Rourke breathed hard.
“I knew someone was following her that night.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I was following the second car.”
“Why?”
“Because Sofia paid me.”
That changed everything.
“What?”
“Three days before she died, she confronted me. She knew I'd been watching her.”
He looked toward the table where Sofia's notebook lay.
“She offered me twice what I was being paid if I would tell her who hired me.”
“Did you?”
“I told her I didn't know.”
“Then why pay you?”
“She wanted me to discover it.”
I looked at Victor.
He appeared as confused as I was.
Rourke continued.
“I started tracing Halcyon. The money moved through too many companies, but eventually I found something.”
“What?”
“A trust.”
Samuel shifted.
Tiny movement.
But I saw it.
“What trust?”
Rourke stared at him.
“The Vale Family Trust.”
Samuel stood again.
“This has gone far enough.”
This time Marcus blocked the door.
Samuel looked at him.
Then me.
“Alejandro, think carefully about what you're doing.”
“I am.”
“I've served your family for twenty-seven years.”
“And my wife suspected you.”
His face changed.
“Sofia was frightened and confused.”
“She was neither.”
“You're allowing grief to—”
I crossed the room.
Samuel stopped speaking.
“Do not use my grief to insult my wife's intelligence.”
Silence.
Rourke reached inside his coat slowly.
Three guards reacted.
“Easy,” he said.
He produced a folded document.
Marcus took it first, checked it, then handed it to me.
Bank records.
Transfers.
Halcyon Holdings.
Vale Family Trust.
Millions.
Samuel's face hardened.
“You stole confidential records.”
Rourke smiled faintly.
“Sounds like confirmation.”
Samuel looked at me.
“You don't understand what those transfers represent.”
“Then explain.”
He remained silent.
Victor stepped closer.
“Samuel.”
Something passed between them.
Recognition.
History.
Samuel exhaled.
“Your father created Halcyon.”
I looked at Victor.
Victor's face went blank.
“That's a lie.”
“No,” Samuel said. “It isn't.”
He looked at me.
“Your father understood that the Moretti organization would eventually destroy itself. Halcyon was created to move legitimate assets away from criminal exposure.”
“Then why hide it?”
“Because Victor opposed him.”
Victor slammed his cane against the floor.
“Carlo never—”
“He did.”
Samuel turned toward me.
“Your father wanted you out.”
I stared.
“Out of what?”
“Everything.”
The room went silent.
Samuel continued.
“He wanted you educated. Legitimate. Safe. He created the trust so you could leave Chicago.”
“But he died.”
“Yes.”
“And the money?”
“Remained.”
“Why were you moving it five years ago?”
Samuel looked away.
That was the question.
Rourke answered for him.
“Because Sofia discovered he had started taking it for himself.”
Samuel's face changed.
There it was.
Not confession.
Something close enough.
Rourke continued.
“Sofia found millions missing. She believed Samuel had used Halcyon to steal from the family for years.”
Samuel snapped, “You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“I have the accounts.”
“You have fragments.”
“And Sofia had the rest.”
I looked at Samuel.
“Did you know she was pregnant?”
“No.”
Rourke laughed.
Samuel turned on him.
“Be careful.”
“That's what you told me five years ago.”
Silence.
I felt the room change.
“What did he tell you?” I asked.
Rourke stared at Samuel.
“After I sent the clinic photographs, he called me.”
Samuel's face drained.
“He said, ‘Forget the children. Sofia is the problem.’”
Victor whispered a curse.
My hands became cold.
“Continue.”
“Two nights later, Sofia died.”
I walked toward Samuel.
He backed away.
“Alejandro, listen to me.”
“Did you kill my wife?”
“No.”
“Did you order someone to follow her?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did you know about my sons?”
“I knew there were children.”
“How many?”
“I didn't know.”
“Did you send Rourke to my gate today?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I don't know.”
Rourke interrupted.
“He's telling the truth about that.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because whoever followed me today has been following me for two weeks.”
“Why?”
“Because I started asking questions again.”
“Why now?”
Rourke's expression softened.
“Margaret Bell.”
Elena stepped forward.
“What about Margaret?”
“She contacted me before she died.”
Elena went pale.
“She knew you?”
“She knew who I was. Sofia told her.”
“What did she want?”
“To make sure the boys were safe.”
Rourke reached into his pocket again.
This time he removed a small key card.
“She left me access to a storage unit. I opened it two weeks ago.”
“What was inside?”
“Records Sofia sent her before she died.”
“What records?”
Rourke looked at Samuel.
“Enough to prove who ordered the surveillance.”
Samuel suddenly moved.
Not toward the door.
Toward the fireplace.
Marcus intercepted him immediately.
Samuel froze.
I stared.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
Marcus reached behind the decorative clock on the mantel.
His fingers found something.
A tiny device.
Listening equipment.
The room went dead silent.
Marcus examined it.
“Boss…”
Samuel stared at the floor.
I looked at him.
“You bugged my study?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
Rourke laughed without humor.
“That's the problem, Alejandro.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Samuel isn't the person you should be most afraid of.”
I looked at the listening device.
“Then who?”
Rourke's eyes moved toward the ceiling.
Toward the room where my sons slept.
“The person behind this knew the boys were in your house before Samuel did.”
A scream came from upstairs.
Elena ran first.
I was behind her.
We reached Sofia's sitting room.
The window stood open.
Curtains moved in the cold night air.
Three boys were awake and crying.
Mateo.
Luca.
Nico.
I counted again.
Three.
Elena screamed a name.
“GABRIEL!”
The dinosaur lay on the floor.
The fourth blanket was empty.
And on the windowsill sat another wooden box.
Inside was a note.
This time, only one sentence had been written.
May you like
BRING SOFIA'S NOTEBOOK IF YOU WANT YOUR SON BACK.
---
