Chapter 10 - The Mastermind
Lucia and Michael stepped into the cavernous steel vault.
The walls were lined with millions of dollars in cash, gold bullion, and stacks of classified corporate documents.
Lucia ignored the money.
She walked directly to a small, hidden lockbox in the back corner of the room.
She punched in a secondary code, and the box popped open.
Inside rested a single black leather-bound ledger.
Lucia pulled it out and flipped through the pages.
Every single offshore transfer, every illegal bribe, and every digital signature Vivian had forged to steal the money was meticulously documented.
“We have it,” Lucia breathed, a massive wave of relief washing over her.
“This is enough to put Vivian away for life and destroy Dante’s empire completely.”
Michael nodded, keeping his weapon trained on the vault entrance.
“Let’s get back to the safe house.”
They slipped out of the headquarters undetected, vanishing into the early morning fog.
When they arrived at the heavily guarded safe house in the suburbs, Gerald was waiting in the living room.
He had set up a sterile area for the transport incubator in the corner.
Lucia placed her sleeping daughter gently into the makeshift crib.
She walked over to the dining table and dropped the black ledger in front of the lawyer.
“We won, Gerald,” Lucia said, an exhausted, triumphant smile finally crossing her face.
“We have absolute proof.”
She opened the ledger to the final page to show him the signature transfers.
But as she looked closer at the final entry, her smile vanished entirely.
The routing numbers on the bottom of the page did not lead to Vivian’s offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands.
They led to a private trust fund in Geneva.
A trust fund registered under the name Whitmore Legal Group.
Lucia’s blood ran completely cold.
She looked up at Gerald, her mind racing backwards through the chaos of the last twenty-four hours.
Gerald was the one who told her Vivian had drained the accounts.
Gerald was the one who provided the route to the basement parking garage where Dante had ambushed them.
Gerald was the one who bailed her out so easily.
Vivian hadn't orchestrated the coup.
She was just a pawn.
Gerald Whitmore had used the placental abruption to pit the Moretti and Romano families against each other while he stole the empire's wealth for himself.
“You,” Lucia whispered, stepping backward toward the door.
Gerald didn't look surprised.
He simply sighed, closing the ledger with a soft thud.
“I warned you not to read the final pages until we got to court, my dear.”
Lucia turned to run, but the heavy oak door of the safe house suddenly slammed shut.
Michael Grant stood in front of the exit.
He slowly raised his suppressed handgun and pointed it directly at Lucia’s chest.
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“I told you I didn't work for Dante anymore,” Michael said with a cold, hollow smile.
“Gerald sends his regards.”
