Chapter 5 - The Man Luca Trusted More Than Family

There were not many people Luca trusted.

That made the list short.

Marco.

His attorney.

Two captains.

His private banker.

And one man who had been beside him since the yacht explosion.

Father Gabriel Moretti.

Not Luca’s father.

His cousin.

Priest.

Family confessor.

Keeper of wills, funerals, marriages, and secrets.

Emma looked at Belini.

“You’re saying a priest watched the medical room?”

Belini nodded.

“Mercer showed me the live feed.”

Luca’s face went still.

“No.”

Belini held his gaze.

“He said Gabriel knew everything.”

Marco swore.

Luca did not.

That scared Emma more.

Gabriel had sat beside Luca’s hospital bed after the explosion.

He had arranged Salvatore’s funeral.

He had blessed the sealed coffin.

He had signed family incapacity papers as witness.

And every Tuesday for seven years, he had visited the private floor.

“Confession,” Luca said.

Marco looked at him.

“What?”

“He came after Mercer.”

Every Tuesday.

Mercer injected Luca.

Then Gabriel arrived.

Not spiritual care.

Verification.

Emma felt sick.

“How do we prove it?”

Belini looked toward the old clinic safe.

“Mercer kept recordings.”

Marco opened the second compartment.

Empty.

Luca’s jaw tightened.

“Gone.”

“No,” Emma said.

Everyone looked at her.

She pointed to dust.

Three rectangular marks.

One case had been removed recently.

Two had been gone longer.

“Someone took different things at different times.”

Marco crouched.

She was right.

Belini looked almost impressed.

“You really do notice everything.”

Emma shrugged.

“I clean rooms people think are empty.”

Luca looked at her for half a second.

Then at Marco.

“Find Gabriel.”

They did.

He was at St. Michael’s Church.

Alone.

Or pretending to be.

Luca entered in his wheelchair.

Marco behind him.

Emma stayed near the back.

Belini came too.

Gabriel stood beneath the altar.

Silver at his temples.

Black clerical suit.

Moretti eyes.

He looked at Luca’s chair.

Then at Emma.

Then at Belini.

“You found the clinic.”

Not a question.

Luca stopped.

“You knew.”

Gabriel sighed.

“I knew enough.”

“How much?”

“Enough to know Salvatore should have died when the papers said he did.”

Luca’s face changed.

“You helped him.”

“No.”

“You witnessed the incapacity trust.”

“Yes.”

“You visited every Tuesday.”

“Yes.”

“After Mercer injected me.”

Gabriel closed his eyes.

“Yes.”

Marco moved.

Luca raised one hand.

He stopped.

“Why?”

Gabriel looked older suddenly.

“Because I thought the alternative was your death.”

Silence.

Emma frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Gabriel looked at her.

“After the yacht explosion, Salvatore controlled the old captains. Half of them wanted Luca replaced.”

Luca’s voice hardened.

“I knew that.”

“No.”

Gabriel shook his head.

“You knew they doubted you. You did not know they planned to kill you.”

Marco’s expression changed.

Gabriel continued.

“Salvatore offered a compromise.”

The chair.

The injections.

The diagnosis.

A living Luca.

A weakened Luca.

A controllable Luca.

In exchange, no civil war.

Emma stared.

“You agreed to drug him for seven years?”

Gabriel looked ashamed.

“I agreed to six months.”

Luca’s voice dropped.

“Six months.”

“Yes.”

“And after six months?”

“Salvatore refused to stop.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because by then Mercer had altered your records, the trust had shifted control, and Salvatore had enough captains to destroy everything you were rebuilding.”

Luca stared at him.

“You decided for me.”

“Yes.”

“You decided I would rather live deceived than fight.”

“Yes.”

Gabriel’s voice broke.

“I was wrong.”

Luca looked toward the altar.

For one second, Emma saw the seven lost years land on him all at once.

Then Marco’s phone rang.

He listened.

His face hardened.

“Boss.”

Luca turned.

“Salvatore moved money.”

“How much?”

“Forty-two million from the steward accounts.”

Gabriel went pale.

“When?”

“Ten minutes ago.”

Belini looked at Luca.

“He knows you found the file.”

Marco continued.

“There’s more.”

A private jet had filed a flight plan from Teterboro.

Destination unknown.

Passenger manifest under shell identities.

One name was real.

Dr. Mercer.

Emma looked at Luca.

“Salvatore is leaving.”

“No.”

Luca’s eyes became cold.

“He is running.”

Then Gabriel spoke.

“Not yet.”

Everyone turned.

He reached inside his coat and removed a small brass key.

Luca recognized it.

So did Marco.

The Moretti mausoleum key.

Gabriel placed it in Luca’s hand.

“Salvatore never trusted banks with everything.”

Luca looked at him.

“What is in the mausoleum?”

Gabriel answered quietly.

“The original yacht file.”

Emma felt the room change.

“And?”

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Gabriel looked directly at Luca.

“The name of the person who planted the bomb.”