Chapter 4 - WHAT ARTURO NEVER TOLD HIS SON
“Protect Mateo from my son.”
Jonah did not speak for nearly a minute.
Stella watched him turn the photograph over again.
As though the words might rearrange themselves.
They didn't.
Frankie stood rigid near the door.
Jonah looked up.
“Explain it.”
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“I know what Arturo told me. I don't know what he meant.”
Jonah laughed once.
Cold.
“You've had eight years to wonder.”
“I've had eight years to keep you alive.”
“That wasn't the question.”
Frankie's jaw tightened.
“Your father was afraid of what you'd become if you inherited everything too young.”
Jonah's expression changed.
“He thought I'd hurt Mateo?”
“He thought you might mistake Mateo for a threat.”
“Was he?”
Frankie said nothing.
That silence was louder than yes.
Stella sat down.
“Mateo was supposed to inherit something.”
Both men looked at her.
She shrugged.
“Why else protect him from Jonah?”
Jonah's eyes narrowed.
Frankie exhaled.
“Half the legitimate harbor company.”
The room went silent.
Jonah stared at him.
“No.”
“Arturo changed the ownership structure three months before he died.”
“I inherited Navarro Maritime.”
“You inherited controlling interest.”
“How much?”
“Fifty-one percent.”
“And Mateo?”
“Forty-nine.”
Jonah's face drained of color.
“I've never seen that.”
“Because Mateo signed his shares back.”
“What?”
“He refused them.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew what you would think.”
Jonah looked genuinely lost.
For the first time, Stella saw the boy underneath the feared man.
A son who had spent eight years believing his father chose him completely.
Now he was discovering Arturo had chosen someone else too.
“You knew?”
Jonah asked Frankie.
“Yes.”
“And Mateo knew?”
“Yes.”
“And everyone decided I couldn't?”
“No.”
Frankie stepped closer.
“Your father had just died. Victor was breaking away. Men were choosing sides. You were twenty-nine and furious at the world. Mateo said if you learned Arturo had given him almost half the company, you'd spend the rest of your life wondering whether he wanted your chair.”
Jonah's voice sharpened.
“So he gave it back.”
“He gave it to you.”
Stella looked at the photograph again.
That changed Mateo.
Not proof he was innocent.
But it made the theory that he had spent years waiting to steal Jonah's empire less convincing.
“Then why did he ask for the medicine cabinet code?”
she said.
Frankie looked at her.
“I don't know.”
Jonah picked up his phone.
“Neither do I.”
This time Mateo answered.
Jonah put the call on speaker.
“Where are you?”
A pause.
Then Mateo said, “You found the watch.”
Jonah's face went hard.
“Yes.”
“Then Frankie finally told you.”
“Where are you?”
Another silence.
“At St. Vincent's.”
Stella frowned.
“The hospital?”
“No. Church.”
Jonah's eyes narrowed.
“Stay there.”
“Jonah—”
“Stay.”
He ended the call.
Stella stood.
“You are not going anywhere tonight.”
Jonah reached for the wheelchair controls.
“I wasn't asking.”
“You nearly had a hypertensive crisis two hours ago.”
“My cousin may be involved in drugging me.”
“Then send Frankie.”
“No.”
“Fine. Send ten terrifying men named Salvatore.”
Frankie almost smiled.
Jonah didn't.
“I am going.”
Stella stared.
Then grabbed her coat.
“What are you doing?”
“Preventing you from dying dramatically in a church.”
“You're not coming.”
“You can't transfer out of that chair alone if something happens.”
“I can manage.”
“Jonah.”
Their eyes locked.
He looked away first.
Twenty-five minutes later, they entered St. Vincent's through a side entrance.
Mateo sat alone in the last pew.
He was younger than Jonah, with the same dark eyes but none of Jonah's severe stillness.
A wooden rosary hung between his fingers.
The moment he saw the wheelchair, something painful crossed his face.
“Did Stella find the pills?”
Jonah stopped.
So did Stella.
“You knew.”
Mateo nodded.
“I found the first one four days ago.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know who was doing it.”
“So you asked for the cabinet code.”
“To check the bottles.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
Jonah's hands tightened.
Mateo stood.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Apparently that's a family disease.”
Mateo flinched.
Good.
He deserved some of that.
“But I didn't change your medicine.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
“That answer is getting old.”
Mateo held out the rosary.
A small brass key hung beside the crucifix.
“I went to the docks because Arturo's old storage locker was opened.”
Frankie stepped forward.
“That locker has been sealed for years.”
“Not anymore.”
“What's inside?”
Jonah asked.
“Was.”
Mateo corrected him.
“Someone cleaned it out.”
“Victor?”
“I don't think so.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor sent me a message yesterday asking if I knew where Dad kept the original manifests.”
Jonah looked at Stella.
“Ledgers.”
“Not imaginary this time,” she said.
Mateo nodded.
“Arturo kept paper manifests during the years Victor worked for him. Shipping logs. Payments. Names.”
Jonah's expression hardened.
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because Dad hid them.”
“You're calling him Dad now?”
Mateo's face changed.
“He raised me too, Jonah.”
That landed.
For a moment the two men looked less like a crime boss and lieutenant than brothers fighting over a dead father.
Mateo continued.
“The real records could destroy Victor.”
“Then why didn't Victor take them years ago?”
“Because he didn't know they existed until recently.”
“How did he find out?”
Mateo looked toward Frankie.
Then back at Jonah.
“Someone has been going through Arturo's personal effects.”
“Who?”
Mateo swallowed.
“Your previous nurses weren't fired because they hovered.”
Stella slowly turned toward Jonah.
He said nothing.
Mateo's voice lowered.
“Three of them found things they weren't supposed to find.”
Stella stared at Jonah.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn't know.”
Mateo shook his head.
“You knew one of them did.”
Jonah's face hardened.
“Which one?”
“Laura Bell.”
The name meant nothing to Stella.
Until Mateo continued.
“She photographed one of the medication bottles before she disappeared.”
Stella's stomach dropped.
“Disappeared?”
Mateo nodded.
“She never went back to the agency.”
Jonah looked stunned.
Mateo reached into his coat and removed a cheap prepaid phone.
“I found this in Arturo's locker.”
On the screen was Laura Bell's final photograph.
A hand held Jonah's medication bottle.
Behind it, reflected faintly in a mirror, stood a man.
Gray hair.
White medical coat.
May you like
Dr. Aris.
The physician treating Jonah's paralysis had been standing in the room when the first altered medication was discovered.
