Chapter 7 - Elena’s Last Lie

Marco stopped breathing.

“You what?”

Elena repeated:

“I went with Victor on purpose.”

Arthur stared.

Daniel swore.

Marco’s voice turned cold.

“You let us think you were kidnapped.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Victor would never follow me if he thought I was leading him.”

Marco frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“Finishing what your father started.”

“Where?”

Elena hesitated.

“Saint Michael’s.”

Marco looked at Daniel.

The church.

The same place Anthony had told us to meet him.

Marco understood.

“You’re bringing Victor to Dad.”

“Yes.”

“Are you insane?”

“Probably.”

“Mom.”

The word came out before he could stop it.

Elena went silent.

So did everyone.

Marco had not called her that since opening the hotel door.

He closed his eyes.

“Do not do this.”

Her voice softened.

“I already did.”

The call ended.

We drove south.

Fast.

Saint Michael’s Church sat outside a small Quebec town.

Stone walls.

White steeple.

Snow at the edge of the road.

No cars in front.

Marco entered first.

Anthony stood near the altar.

Late sixties.

Tall.

Gray beard.

Marco stopped.

Father and son looked at each other.

Nineteen years.

Anthony’s eyes filled.

“Marco.”

Marco walked forward.

Then hit him.

Once.

Hard.

Anthony fell against a pew.

Arthur closed his eyes.

Daniel looked away.

Valentina didn’t move.

Marco stood over his father.

“That was for the funeral.”

Anthony touched his mouth.

Fair.

Marco helped him stand.

“That was for staying alive.”

Anthony looked at him.

“And this?”

Marco hugged him.

Briefly.

Violently.

Then stepped away.

“That was for being here now.”

Anthony’s face broke.

“I’m sorry.”

Marco shook his head.

“Later.”

He looked toward the church entrance.

“Victor is coming.”

Anthony nodded.

“I know.”

“You planned this?”

“With Elena.”

“How long?”

“Six months.”

Marco stared.

Arthur said:

“So her visit three months ago…”

Anthony nodded.

“She was preparing Marco.”

Valentina looked at him.

“She tried to convince Elena not to return.”

Anthony looked at her.

“No.”

Valentina froze.

“What?”

“You were told to say that.”

Valentina stared.

“By my father.”

Daniel looked confused.

“I never—”

Anthony pointed.

“Not Daniel.”

Silence.

“Victor sent the message.”

Again.

Victor had used Daniel’s identity.

Valentina looked sick.

Anthony continued.

“Elena asked you whether Marco trusted you.”

Valentina remembered.

“She asked whether I would tell him the truth if it destroyed my father.”

“Yes.”

“That wasn’t about stopping her.”

“No.”

“It was a test.”

“Yes.”

Valentina looked down.

“I failed.”

Anthony shook his head.

“You came back.”

“That matters.”

Marco looked at his father.

“Why now?”

Anthony answered:

“Because your uncle is dying.”

Silence.

Marco frowned.

“What?”

“Pancreatic cancer.”

“Months.”

“Maybe weeks.”

Arthur whispered:

“That’s why he became careless.”

Anthony nodded.

“Your uncle started moving money.”

“Destroying records.”

“Trying to choose who inherited his network.”

Marco stared.

“Victor.”

“No.”

Anthony shook his head.

“Victor controlled law enforcement contacts.”

“Your uncle controlled family operations.”

“They were partners.”

“Not friends.”

“So who inherits?”

Anthony looked at Marco.

“You.”

Marco laughed.

“No.”

“Not by choice.”

Anthony took out a document.

A trust amendment.

Marco’s uncle had named him sole successor to several entities.

Marco stared.

“He tried to make me inherit crimes.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So when investigations opened, everything pointed to you.”

Marco’s face hardened.

“He was going to die and leave me holding it.”

“Yes.”

Valentina whispered:

“And Victor?”

Anthony looked toward the church doors.

“Victor wanted the same thing.”

“To use Marco as the clean face after everyone else disappeared.”

The doors opened.

Victor entered.

Elena beside him.

No weapon visible.

Three men behind them.

Victor smiled.

“Family reunion.”

Marco moved toward Elena.

One of the men raised a gun.

She stopped him with a glance.

Victor noticed.

“You’re very confident for a hostage.”

Elena smiled.

“I never said I was one.”

Victor’s face changed.

Anthony stepped forward.

“Hello, Victor.”

For the first time, Victor Hale looked afraid.

Not shocked.

Afraid.

“You should be dead.”

Anthony smiled.

“So should half the people you failed to kill.”

Victor looked around.

Then understood.

The church cameras.

The open side door.

The sound of vehicles outside.

He turned toward Elena.

“You betrayed me.”

She answered:

“Sixteen years late.”

Police entered.

Not local.

Federal Canadian officers.

International task force.

Daniel exhaled.

Anthony whispered:

“Clean unit.”

Victor drew a gun.

Everything happened fast.

He aimed at Anthony.

Marco moved.

Elena moved faster.

Gunshot.

Victor fell.

Not dead.

Shoulder.

Weapon on the floor.

Elena stood with a small pistol in her hand.

Marco stared at her.

She looked at him.

“Your father already died once.”

“I wasn’t watching it happen again.”

Victor was arrested.

His three men surrendered.

The church became noise.

Radios.

Commands.

Footsteps.

Marco looked at Anthony.

Then Elena.

Both alive.

Both in the same room.

For the first time since childhood.

And still one question remained.

Marco asked:

“Where is my uncle?”

Anthony’s expression changed.

Elena lowered the gun.

Arthur looked toward the door.

Daniel said nothing.

Marco stared at all of them.

“You know.”

Anthony answered.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At your estate.”

Marco’s face hardened.

“What is he doing there?”

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Anthony looked at him.

“Waiting for you to inherit everything.”