Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT DAMIAN LEARNED WHO KILLED HIS FATHER
Damian entered Vale House without security.
Roman hated that.
He followed anyway.
Sebastian sat in library beneath a portrait of Vincent Vale.
Damian’s father looked down from the wall at thirty-eight years old.
Same gray eyes.
Different smile.
The ledger rested on table.
Damian stopped.
“You sent those men.”
“Yes.”
“You used me as bait.”
“Yes.”
“You knew DeLuca would hear.”
“Yes.”
“You let Harper walk into it.”
“No.”
“That happened anyway.”
Sebastian’s face tightened.
“I did not know she would come outside.”
“You should have known there were civilians.”
“That alley should have been closed.”
“Should?”
Damian laughed without humor.
“You’re getting careless.”
Sebastian flinched.
Then Damian pointed at ledger.
“Why steal it?”
“Because someone else is using it.”
“Who?”
Sebastian did not answer.
“Who killed my father?”
There.
Twenty years in one sentence.
Sebastian looked toward portrait.
“He killed himself.”
Damian went still.
Not what expected.
“What?”
“Not suicide.”
Sebastian looked at him.
“His choices.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Vincent borrowed money from Victor DeLuca’s father.”
Damian stared.
“My father never borrowed.”
“Yes, he did.”
“For what?”
“To buy Pier Twelve.”
The waterfront parcel that became foundation of Vale Freight.
Damian knew acquisition story.
Family cash.
Private note.
No DeLuca.
Sebastian continued.
“Vincent borrowed twelve million off books because bank financing would expose leverage.”
“From Antonio DeLuca.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He refused repayment terms.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“Antonio killed him.”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Sebastian looked at him.
“I did.”
Silence.
Roman stepped forward.
“Sebastian.”
Damian did not move.
“What did you say?”
Sebastian’s face broke for first time.
“Your father was going to hand the waterfront to DeLuca in exchange for wiping debt.”
“That was his property.”
“It was family’s future.”
“So you killed him?”
“No.”
Sebastian stood.
“We fought.”
“On boat.”
“Yes.”
“He hit me.”
Damian’s breath changed.
“I pushed him.”
Silence.
“He went over rail.”
Damian stared.
“Could he swim?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
Sebastian’s voice dropped.
“He hit his head.”
Roman looked away.
Damian felt seventeen.
Police at door.
Sebastian holding his shoulders.
Your father had an accident.
The funeral.
The black suit.
The first time someone called him Mr. Vale.
“You left him.”
Sebastian cried.
“I tried to pull him back.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Truth.”
“I swear.”
Damian’s fists tightened.
Roman moved half step.
Damian saw.
“Stay back.”
Roman did.
Sebastian continued.
“By the time I got him onto boat, he wasn’t breathing.”
“Then why lie?”
“Because Antonio DeLuca knew debt.”
“If your father’s death became suspicious, DeLuca would take company during investigation.”
“So you protected business.”
“I protected you.”
“No.”
Damian stepped closer.
“You protected Vale.”
Sebastian looked destroyed.
“I thought they were same.”
There.
Family disease.
Damian understood suddenly why Harper’s refusal to accept his protection felt so foreign.
Vale men had always called control protection.
Sebastian pulled papers from ledger.
“Antonio used death against us anyway. I paid debt over years through contracts.”
“The missing twenty-seven million?”
“No.”
“That’s newer.”
“Who?”
Sebastian slid photograph.
A man Damian knew.
Adrian Vale.
His cousin.
Sebastian’s son.
Damian stared.
“No.”
“Adrian has been moving money through DeLuca vendors.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows about Vincent.”
Damian looked at Sebastian.
“You told him.”
“He found records.”
“And he blackmailed you.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three years.”
Damian laughed bitterly.
“The money isn’t being stolen from me.”
“No.”
“It’s you paying him.”
“At first.”
“Then?”
“He got greedy.”
Adrian had created contractor network.
Used Sebastian’s silence.
Threatened expose father’s death.
Then began draining more than Sebastian authorized.
DeLuca saw weakness and joined.
The alley confrontation?
Sebastian staged to provoke whoever monitored Damian.
Adrian’s people placed bug at Harper’s shop after seeing kiss.
Because they feared Damian might tell Harper what he suspected.
Everything converged.
Then Damian’s phone rang.
Harper.
He almost did not answer.
He did.
“Are you okay?”
Simple.
No fear of him.
No request.
No business.
“Not really.”
His voice broke.
Harper went quiet.
“Do you want me to say something or just stay here?”
That question nearly destroyed him.
“Stay.”
So she did.
Through phone.
No conversation for nearly a minute.
Sebastian watched.
Realized.
Damian finally said:
“My uncle killed my father.”
Harper exhaled.
“Do you need police?”
Roman looked at Damian.
Sebastian closed eyes.
Damian said:
“I need truth.”
Then Harper answered:
“Those are not opposites.”
There.
The florist in Philadelphia understood something Vale men spent generations avoiding.
Damian looked at Sebastian.
“Call attorney.”
Sebastian stared.
“What?”
“You’re giving statement.”
“Damian—”
“No.”
“You’ll destroy family.”
Damian’s face changed.
“No.”
He looked at portrait.
“We already did that.”
Then Roman’s phone buzzed.
He read.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Bennett Blooms alarm.”
Damian froze.
Roman continued.
“Rear door breached.”
Damian lifted phone.
“Harper, where are you?”
No answer.
“Harper?”
Silence.
Then another voice came through her line.
Male.
Young.
Amused.
“You finally found the right betrayal, cousin.”
Adrian Vale.
Damian’s blood went cold.
“Where is she?”
Adrian laughed.
May you like
“You should have stayed afraid of everyone.”
Then line went dead.
