Chapter 5 - THE DEAD MAN’S CONFESSION
I spun around so fast I nearly lost my footing on the slick concrete.
The headlights of Richard’s car cut through the darkness, illuminating the rusted warehouse I had just walked past.
A figure stepped out from the shadows.
He was older, his face lined with years of hard living, a thick scar running down his cheek. He walked with a slight limp, pulling his collar up against the rain.
My heart physically ached in my chest.
“Thomas?” I whispered.
My brother stopped a few feet away from me. He couldn’t look me in the eye.
“Hello, Ellie,” Thomas said, his voice rough and gravelly.
I covered my mouth with both hands, sobbing. He was alive. Fifteen years of mourning, of laying flowers on an empty grave, and he was standing right in front of me.
But Camille looked completely confused.
“What is this?” Camille demanded, waving the gun between Richard and Thomas. “My father said you were dead! He said Richard killed you!”
Thomas finally looked at Camille. There was no warmth in his eyes.
“Your father was a liar, kid,” Thomas said bluntly. “Arthur Bennett didn’t offer to help me disappear. He kidnapped me.”
Camille’s face went pale. “No. That’s not true.”
“I owed Arthur money,” Thomas continued, stepping closer to the headlights. “A lot of money. When I couldn’t pay, he grabbed me. He told Richard he would cut me into pieces unless Richard handed over the South Side ports.”
I looked at my husband in shock.
Richard hadn’t killed Arthur Bennett out of greed. He had gone to war to save my brother.
“Richard came to the Bennett compound alone,” Thomas said, his voice trembling with a mix of shame and gratitude. “He tore through your father’s men to get me out. When Arthur pulled a gun on me, Richard put him down.”
“No!” Camille screamed, backing up toward the edge of the pier. “You’re lying! You’re both lying!”
“I’m not lying,” Thomas said quietly. “Your father kept my picture in his watch as a trophy. A reminder of the leverage he held over the Moretti family.”
I looked at Richard. The man I had accused of being a monster just five minutes ago was staring at the ground, completely exhausted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I cried, walking toward Richard. “Why did you let me believe he was dead for fifteen years?”
Richard finally looked up at me, his eyes filled with a desperate need for forgiveness.
“Because Thomas asked me to,” Richard whispered.
I turned back to my brother. “Why? Why would you do that to me? To Mom and Dad?”
Thomas swallowed hard, wiping the rain from his face. “Because if Arthur’s remaining loyalists knew I was alive, they would have come after you, Ellie. They would have targeted our parents. The only way to keep our family safe was for Thomas to die in a boating accident.”
“I gave him a new identity,” Richard said softly. “I set him up in Seattle. I checked on him every month. But when I got the threat three days ago, I knew Bennett’s loyalists were making a move. I called Thomas to come back. To help me find Mia.”
Camille’s hands were shaking violently now. The foundation of her entire life—her decade-long quest for revenge—had just been obliterated by the truth.
“My father was a good man,” she sobbed, dropping to her knees on the wet concrete.
“Your father was a monster, Camille,” Richard said coldly. “And you let his ghost convince you to kidnap an innocent child.”
Richard walked toward her, kicking the pistol out of her reach.
“Give me the location of the shipping container,” Richard demanded, towering over her.
Camille looked up at him, her mascara running down her cheeks like black tears.
“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“What do you mean you can’t?” I screamed, running forward.
May you like
Camille looked at me, pure terror shining in her eyes.
“Because I didn’t take them, Eleanor. I was just supposed to keep you and Richard distracted at the restaurant tonight while the real boss took your daughter.”
