Chapter 4 - The Book of Sins
Gabriel snatched the check from Mara's trembling fingers and stared at the blinking red dot.
He did not yell.
He did not panic.
He simply dropped the million-dollar check onto the floorboard and crushed the tracker beneath his heavy boot.
“Change the route,” Gabriel barked to the driver.
“Take us to the safehouse in the Seaport District, and burn this car as soon as we drop.”
Mara stared at the destroyed check, the reality of her lost fortune settling in beneath the terror.
“They were tracking me,” she whispered, her voice hollow.
“Cassandra must have slipped it on the paper when she leaned over the table.”
Gabriel looked at her, his dark eyes analyzing her shock.
“I will write you another check tomorrow, Mara.”
“Right now, I need you to focus on what is inside that box.”
They arrived at a sleek, anonymous high-rise building overlooking the dark waters of Boston Harbor.
The private elevator took them directly to the penthouse floor.
Gabriel led them inside, immediately locking down the biometric security systems.
A private medical team was already waiting in the living room to stitch up Daniel’s shoulder.
Gabriel pointed to a massive glass dining table.
“Open it,” he instructed.
Mara placed the heavy iron lockbox on the glass surface.
She examined the locking mechanism, realizing it was a complex series of rotating dials.
“It requires a combination,” Mara said, her hands hovering over the rusted metal.
She closed her eyes and thought about the letter, the symbols, and her grandfather's meticulous habits.
“Seventeen, four, nine,” she muttered, spinning the dials to match the numbers from the wax seal.
The iron latch clicked loudly, and the heavy lid popped open.
Gabriel stepped closer, his presence looming over her shoulder.
Inside the box, there was no gold, no cash, and no weapons.
There was only a thick, black leather ledger bound with a leather cord.
Mara carefully lifted the book and untied the cord.
She opened to the very first page.
The writing was entirely encoded in the same complex shorthand her grandfather had taught her as a child.
“What is it?” Gabriel asked, his impatience finally showing.
Mara scanned the columns of names, dates, and astronomical financial figures.
She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in utter horror.
“My grandfather wasn't just restoring antique books,” she choked out.
“He was the supreme master accountant for the entire East Coast criminal syndicate.”
Gabriel’s face went completely still.
“Read the last entry,” he demanded.
Mara turned to the final page, her eyes tracing the hurried, frantic handwriting.
“It says that absolute control of the syndicate's billions requires three physical keys.”
She looked up at Gabriel, tears stinging her eyes.
“And it says your uncle, Vincent Moretti, ordered the assassination of your father to steal them.”
Gabriel stared at her, an ocean of dark, violent revenge brewing in his eyes.
May you like
Then, Gabriel slowly reached inside his black shirt and pulled out a heavy silver chain.
Hanging from the chain was an ancient, intricate iron key.
