Chapter 10 - The False Victory
The explosion of pure white light temporarily blinded everyone in the clearing.
A deafening, high-pitched ringing sound shattered the silence of the docks.
Before Vincent's disoriented guards could even raise their weapons to fire blindly, Daniel’s sniper team opened fire from the cargo cranes above.
The suppressed shots rained down with lethal precision, dropping all ten of Vincent’s mercenaries in less than five seconds.
Vincent stumbled backward, clutching his face and screaming in agony as the temporary blindness disoriented him completely.
Gabriel walked calmly forward through the smoke and kicked his uncle violently in the chest, sending him sprawling onto the wet concrete.
Gabriel leaned down, scooped up the real iron keys that Vincent had dropped, and pocketed them securely.
“It’s over, Vincent,” Gabriel stated coldly, looking down at the ruined, pathetic man.
“The police are already on their way to collect what's left of you.”
Gabriel turned his back on his uncle and walked over to Mara and Lily.
“Are you both okay?” Gabriel asked, his voice softening slightly as he looked at the terrified women.
Mara nodded rapidly, tears of pure relief washing away the soot on her face.
They had won.
They had saved her sister, defeated the syndicate's traitor, and secured the keys to the empire.
They returned to the secure penthouse exactly one hour later, safe and completely victorious.
Daniel escorted Lily to a guest bedroom to sleep off the trauma, leaving Gabriel and Mara alone in the ruined living room.
Gabriel walked over to the surviving bar cart, poured two glasses of expensive whiskey, and handed one to Mara.
“To surviving the night,” Gabriel toasted softly, clinking his glass against hers.
He then walked over to a heavy steel briefcase Daniel had retrieved from the First National Bank earlier that evening.
Gabriel inserted the three ancient keys into the locks on the top of the briefcase.
The heavy steel lid hissed open, revealing the true contents of the master lockbox.
Inside, there was no master ledger, no list of bank accounts, and no gold bars.
There was only a single, perfectly preserved birth certificate.
Gabriel picked up the document, his eyes scanning the faded ink rapidly.
The heavy crystal whiskey glass slipped from his fingers, shattering violently against the hardwood floor.
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The document proved that his father, Antonio Moretti, never had a son, but instead had a legitimate daughter hidden away with a trusted accountant to protect her from the mafia life.
Mara Quinn was the true blood heir to the global criminal syndicate, and Gabriel Moretti, the man who had just dismantled his own family to protect her, was absolutely nobody.
