Chapter 8 - hidden ties
The rain outside the glass conservatory settled into a steady, rhythmic pour as Thomas lay groaning on the damp gravel floor, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back with steel restraints supplied by Marco.
Bernadette stood over him, her refined silver hair slightly disheveled, her hands breathing heavily as she set the heavy brass candlestick down on an iron bench.
"Are you alright, Gabriel?" Bernadette asked, her voice shaking slightly.
Gabriel didn't answer immediately. He looked down at Thomas, then looked at Bernadette, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying mix of relief and lingering suspicion.
"Why were you in the greenhouse, Bernadette?" Gabriel asked, his voice low.
"I saw Thomas leave the main building with a weapon ten minutes ago," Bernadette explained, catching her breath. "I knew he was heading toward the gardens. I followed him."
Marco and two security guards rushed into the greenhouse, their weapons drawn, taking control of the bound adviser.
"Take him down to the interrogation room in the lower sub-basement," Gabriel ordered Marco. "Strip his phone, his watch, and his coat. Nobody speaks to him until I get down there."
"Understood, Don Gabriel," Marco said, dragging Thomas up by his arms and marching him out into the rain.
Gabriel turned back to the steel box sitting on the iron table. He pulled the small micro-cassette tape from the container and walked out of the conservatory, heading straight back to his third-floor private study.
Five minutes later, the study was secure. Gabriel inserted the micro-cassette into an old deck system on his desk and hit play.
A sharp hiss of tape static filled the quiet room, followed by the deep, raspy voice of Gabriel's father, Don Carmine Valenti, recorded twenty-five years ago:
"If you are listening to this tape, Thomas Reed has executed his plan. My son Gabriel believes his birthday is cursed because I was taken from him on October 14. But the truth must be preserved. Thomas is not acting alone. He is the American representative for a larger European syndicate known as the Vanguard Crown..."
Gabriel’s eyes widened slightly. The Vanguard Crown was an elite, shadowy cartel that controlled major European shipping ports from London to Marseilles.
The tape continued, the voice growing weaker:
"...they seek to claim the Valenti shipping charter in New York and Chicago. To secure our bloodline, I have divided the master charter key into two silver lockets. One remains with Gabriel. The second was given to my infant son, Marcus..."
Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver locket Claire had brought into his house.
He pressed his thumb against the back casing of the locket, squeezing hard along the outer rim as his father's recorded instructions detailed.
With a soft metallic click, the back panel of the silver locket popped open, revealing a micro-engraved brass key embedded inside the metal lining.
Gabriel looked at the tiny brass key in his hand. The mystery of why Claire and Mia had been hunted for three years was finally laid bare: the locket was not just a sentimental keepsake—it was the physical master key to a fifty-million-dollar offshore asset vault registered under the Valenti family name.
His phone buzzed on the desk. It was Marco from the lower sub-basement.
"Boss," Marco said, his voice tight with tension. "We searched Thomas's private coat. We found a satellite burner phone. He received a text message sixty seconds before we cuffed him."
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"What did the text say?" Gabriel asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.
"The text came from an encrypted Swiss number," Marco read. "It says: The mother and child must be eliminated before sunrise. The Vanguard representative has arrived at Chicago O'Hare."
