Chapter 6 - BLOOD AT THE OLD SHIPYARD
Elias woke to Serena’s voice.
Not because she was speaking to him.
Because she was arguing with Damiano outside his hospital room.
“He is not bait.”
“He already is.”
“Then stop treating him like he volunteered.”
“He did volunteer.”
“To help Claudia.”
“To involve himself.”
“He was already involved.”
“So was the Titanic.”
Serena lowered her voice.
“That comparison doesn’t even make sense.”
“It sank.”
Elias opened his eyes.
Pain immediately reminded him where he was.
His shoulder burned.
His ribs hurt.
His throat felt like sandpaper.
A nurse noticed.
“You’re awake.”
He tried to sit.
She stopped him.
“Absolutely not.”
“How long?”
“Seven hours.”
“Serena?”
The door opened before the nurse could answer.
Serena entered.
Same clothes.
Ash still visible near the cuff of her coat.
A small bandage crossed one cheek.
“You look terrible,” Elias said.
She stared.
“You were shot.”
“So?”
“So perhaps this is not the moment for criticism.”
He smiled weakly.
“You stayed.”
She immediately looked away.
“I needed to speak with the doctors.”
“For seven hours?”
“Damiano was busy threatening people.”
From outside the room,
“I can hear you.”
Elias almost laughed.
Then pain caught him.
Serena moved instinctively toward the bed.
Her hand reached for his.
Stopped.
She lowered it.
Elias noticed.
He said nothing.
“What happened?”
“The bullet passed through.”
“My shoulder?”
“Yes.”
“Claudia?”
“Alive.”
“Damiano?”
“Annoying.”
“Sounds healthy.”
Serena finally looked at him.
For a second, neither spoke.
Then Elias said,
“I’m sorry.”
“For getting shot?”
“For the kiss.”
Her face changed.
He continued.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I should never have done it.”
“Yes.”
“I was angry with you.”
“That is not an explanation.”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“It’s an indictment of me.”
Serena folded her arms.
“I spent months accusing you of pulling away while I was the one building a second life outside our marriage.”
He stared at the blanket.
“I liked how Claudia looked at me.”
Serena was silent.
“She made me feel like everything I said was brilliant.”
A bitter smile.
“You made me think.”
“And apparently that was exhausting.”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised her.
Elias looked at her.
“I wanted admiration more than intimacy.”
He paused.
“I didn’t understand the difference until I lost the person who actually knew me.”
Serena’s eyes glistened.
But her voice stayed calm.
“You don’t get me back because you finally understand what you did.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t get points for taking a bullet.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“I’d still take it again.”
She closed her eyes.
“Elias.”
“I’m not saying it to manipulate you.”
“Then don’t say it.”
He nodded.
“All right.”
The door opened.
Damiano entered.
“Heartwarming.”
Serena turned.
“What?”
“We found the man Claudia identified.”
Elias frowned.
“The bomb maker?”
“Dead.”
Serena’s jaw tightened.
“Of course.”
“Three years ago. Apparent overdose.”
“Leonard cleaned everything.”
“Yes.”
Damiano placed photographs on the table.
Serena didn’t touch them.
Elias looked.
A much younger Leonard stood near a marina in Monaco.
In the background was the Vale family yacht.
The date stamp matched the night Serena’s parents died.
“How?”
“Claudia remembered seeing copies,” Damiano said. “One of my people located the photographer.”
“Alive?”
“For the moment.”
Serena gave Damiano a look.
He sighed.
“He is safe.”
“Better.”
Elias studied the image.
“Why was Leonard there?”
“We don’t know.”
Serena did.
Or at least part of her did.
“My father met with someone that night.”
Damiano turned.
“You remember?”
“I remember him leaving dinner.”
She stared at the photograph.
“He was angry.”
“What did he say?”
Serena closed her eyes.
Fifteen years disappeared.
She was eighteen again.
Music on the upper deck.
Her mother wearing white.
Her father walking past with a glass of untouched wine.
She had asked,
“Are you coming back?”
He had kissed her forehead.
Then said,
“If I’m not back in twenty minutes, tell Damiano I was right about Charleston.”
Serena opened her eyes.
The room went silent.
Damiano looked shaken.
“You never told me that.”
“I forgot.”
“No.”
Her voice became distant.
“I made myself forget.”
Elias watched her.
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Charleston.”
Damiano began pacing.
“At that time, Vale-Marconi was negotiating American expansion.”
“Pier Nine,” Elias said.
Damiano looked at him.
“Yes.”
Elias’s mind moved quickly.
“My father began negotiating Pier Nine fifteen years ago.”
Serena turned.
“What?”
“He never closed it.”
“When?”
“I was in college.”
Damiano stepped closer.
“Who represented your father?”
Elias already knew.
“Leonard.”
Nobody spoke.
The pattern finally became visible.
Leonard had worked for Serena’s father.
Then Elias’s.
One terminal.
Two families.
One dead couple.
One company that benefited without understanding how.
Elias looked at Serena.
“My father may have been part of this.”
“No,” Serena said.
“You don’t know that.”
“No, but Leonard spent years controlling what information reached you.”
“That doesn’t clear my father.”
“Neither does guilt.”
Damiano looked at Elias.
“Your father died when?”
“Six years ago.”
“Cause?”
“Heart attack.”
Damiano’s expression changed.
Elias saw it.
“What?”
“Was there an autopsy?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He had a history of cardiac problems.”
Damiano looked toward Serena.
She understood.
“No.”
Elias stared between them.
“What?”
Serena spoke carefully.
“We are not going to turn every death into murder because Leonard is evil.”
Damiano didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
Elias reached for his phone.
Serena stopped him.
“You’re supposed to rest.”
“I need Marcus.”
“For what?”
“My father kept voice journals.”
Damiano raised an eyebrow.
“Voice journals?”
“He hated typing.”
“Where?”
“Old lake house outside Charleston.”
Serena remembered it.
They had visited once.
Dusty rooms.
Fishing rods.
A deck facing black water.
Elias’s father had called it the only place he could think.
Elias continued.
“He recorded business decisions. Conversations. Things he wanted remembered.”
“Would Leonard know?”
“Maybe.”
“Then if there’s something there—”
“He may already be going after it.”
Elias tried to stand.
Serena pushed him back.
“No.”
“Serena.”
“You have holes in you.”
“One.”
“One is enough.”
Damiano looked amused again.
“I will send people.”
Elias glared at him.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if my father left something, I know where he would hide it.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
Damiano stared.
Elias stared back.
Serena sighed.
“Wonderful. Two territorial billionaires.”
Damiano looked offended.
“My net worth is irrelevant.”
“So is his.”
Elias almost smiled.
She looked at him.
“You are not going.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
He leaned closer.
“Serena, Leonard has spent fifteen years deciding what all of us are allowed to know.”
His expression changed.
“I’m done letting him.”
One hour later, against medical advice and Serena’s increasingly specific threats, Elias signed himself out.
Damiano provided a vehicle.
Serena insisted on driving with him.
By sunset they reached the lake house.
It stood beneath enormous live oaks.
Quiet.
Dark.
Too dark.
Elias stopped before the porch.
“The light should be on.”
Serena looked toward the windows.
“Automatic?”
“Yes.”
Damiano’s men spread out.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, drawers had been opened.
Furniture moved.
Someone had searched the house.
Recently.
Elias walked toward the study.
His father’s desk had been overturned.
Cabinets emptied.
“Too late.”
Serena looked around.
“Where would he hide the recordings?”
Elias stared at the room.
Then at the fireplace.
“My mother.”
“What?”
“She hated his voice journals.”
Serena waited.
“He once told me she threatened to throw them in the lake.”
His eyes moved toward the boathouse.
They crossed the yard.
Inside, an old fishing boat sat beneath a canvas cover.
Elias climbed aboard despite his shoulder.
He reached beneath the driver’s seat.
Pulled a rusted lever.
Nothing.
He tried again.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside sat a waterproof metal case.
Serena’s breath caught.
Elias carried it to the dock.
The lock opened with his father’s birthday.
Inside were dozens of small digital recorders.
Each labeled by year.
Elias found the one from fifteen years earlier.
His hand shook.
Serena touched his wrist.
“You don’t have to do this tonight.”
“Yes.”
He turned it on.
Static.
Then his father’s voice.
Older.
Tired.
“If anything happens to me, this recording concerns Leonard Voss and the Vale-Marconi acquisition.”
Serena froze.
Elias stared at the device.
His father continued.
“I believe Leonard transferred port rights using falsified authority. I confronted him tonight.”
A pause.
“He told me the original owner would not be a problem after tomorrow.”
Serena stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“I contacted Alessandro Vale.”
Her father.
“He is meeting Leonard in Monaco tonight.”
Damiano’s face darkened.
Elias’s father spoke again.
“If Alessandro cannot stop him, I will.”
A sound interrupted.
A door opening.
Then Leonard’s voice.
Fifteen years younger.
Clear.
“You should have stayed out of this, Thomas.”
The recording ended.
Elias looked up.
Serena’s face was white.
Before anyone could speak, headlights appeared through the trees.
Three vehicles.
Fast.
Damiano’s men reached for weapons.
Then a spotlight flooded the dock.
A voice came through a loudspeaker.
“ELIAS MERCER, STEP AWAY FROM THE CASE.”
Elias stared.
Police uniforms moved through the trees.
Federal agents.
Weapons raised.
Serena looked at Damiano.
“What is happening?”
An agent shouted again.
“ELIAS MERCER, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR CONSPIRACY, FRAUD, AND THE ATTEMPTED MURDER OF SERENA MORETTI-VALE.”
Elias slowly looked at Serena.
Leonard had made his next move.
May you like
And this time, he had used the law.
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