Chapter 9 - The Phone Call in the Woods
The silence inside the dusty cabin was deafening, broken only by the crackle of the wood Marco had just lit in the fireplace.
“He’s calling the Commission?” Rebecca whispered, her voice trembling as she stared at the satellite phone on the table. “No. My father wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t sell us out!”
“He isn’t your father,” Alexei said coldly, his thick Russian accent devoid of any empathy. “He is a coward who bought a child from a monster to keep his wife happy. And right now, that coward realizes he is an accessory to a mafia war. He’s calling New York to cut a deal for his own immunity.”
“Shut up!” Rebecca yelled, stepping toward her twin brother. “You don’t know him! He protected me for twenty-eight years!”
“He lied to you for twenty-eight years,” Alexei shot back, his eyes narrowing. “He let you believe your real mother threw you away for a paycheck while he played the saint.”
“Enough!” Luca roared, his voice shaking the cabin walls.
The Don of Chicago stood between the twins, looking more exhausted than I had ever seen him. He pointed a finger at Alexei.
“You and Marco. Track him down. Do not shoot him unless he draws a weapon. Bring him back here alive,” Luca ordered.
Alexei scoffed. “If he’s made the call, keeping him alive is a liability.”
“I said bring him back alive!” Luca snarled, his patience entirely gone.
Alexei stared at his uncle for a long moment, the lethal defiance burning in his eyes, before giving a single, tight nod. He turned on his heel and walked out the door, Marco following closely behind with his assault rifle raised.
The heavy wooden door closed, leaving me, Rebecca, and Luca alone in the living room.
Rebecca collapsed onto a dust-covered sofa, burying her face in her hands.
“I don’t understand,” she sobbed. “Why would he do this? He knows they’ll kill us if they find us.”
I sat down next to her, wrapping my good arm around her trembling shoulders. My heart broke for her. Richard Bennett was the only father she had ever known. Learning that his love was built on a foundation of lies and human trafficking was a trauma I couldn't even begin to fathom.
“He’s terrified, baby,” I whispered, kissing her temple. “Fear makes people do terrible things.”
Luca paced in front of the fireplace, running a hand through his dark, messy hair.
“If he makes that call, the Commission will mobilize every hit squad in a five-hundred-mile radius,” Luca muttered, thinking out loud. “They’ll trace the satellite ping. They’ll have helicopters in the air by noon.”
He stopped and looked at me.
“Catherine, I need you to understand what is about to happen,” Luca said softly, his dark eyes filled with grim certainty. “This cabin is a fortress, but it cannot withstand an army. If the Commission comes, we cannot hold them off.”
“Then we run,” I said, my maternal panic rising. “We get back in the cars and we keep driving.”
“We can’t outrun helicopters,” Luca replied bluntly.
He walked over to the heavy wooden table and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. He placed them in front of me.
“Matteo didn’t just buy this land for the view,” Luca explained. “He bought it because there is a private boathouse down by the lake. Inside is a speedboat fully fueled and ready. He kept it maintained through the blind trust.”
Luca pointed toward the window, looking out over the misty, freezing water of Lake Michigan.
“If the Commission arrives, I will hold the line here with my men,” Luca said. “You, Rebecca, and Alexei will take the boat. It’s fast enough to cross the lake and get you into Canadian waters before they can organize a maritime pursuit. I have safe houses in Toronto. You disappear.”
I stared at him, horrified. “You want us to leave you behind to die?”
“I want Matteo’s bloodline to survive,” Luca stated fiercely. “My father destroyed this family. I am going to save what’s left of it. Even if it costs me my life.”
“No,” Rebecca cried, standing up. “I just found my family. I’m not running away again!”
Before Luca could argue, the front door burst open.
Marco walked in, panting heavily.
But he wasn't alone.
Alexei stepped in behind him, dragging a bruised, terrified Richard Bennett by the collar of his expensive coat. Alexei threw the older man onto the hardwood floor with a heavy thud.
“Did he make the call?” Luca demanded instantly.
Alexei looked at his uncle, his expression unreadable.
“No,” Alexei said. “He didn’t call the Commission.”
Luca frowned. “Then who was he calling?”
Alexei reached into his tactical vest and pulled out a small, silver thumb drive. He tossed it onto the table next to the boat keys.
“He was calling a private bank in Switzerland,” Alexei revealed, his voice laced with absolute disgust. “He was trying to authorize a wire transfer.”
Rebecca gasped, stepping forward. “A transfer for what?”
Richard Bennett looked up from the floor, his face pale and sweating. He wouldn’t look at Rebecca. He stared at the floorboards, trembling violently.
“Tell them, Richard,” Alexei commanded, kicking the man’s leg sharply.
Bennett whimpered. “I... I didn't have a choice. I needed the money.”
“What money?!” Luca roared, grabbing Bennett by the lapels and hauling him to his feet.
“The adoption agency... it wasn't just a broker,” Bennett sobbed, terrified of the mafia Don. “Arthur Bellini forced me to sign a contract twenty-eight years ago. He said if I wanted to keep the girl, I had to agree to hold a massive sum of money in a blind trust under my name. Money that belonged to Antonio Moretti.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“My father used you to launder money?” Luca asked, horrified.
“He used me to hide it from the Commission!” Bennett cried. “Fifty million dollars! Arthur said it was an insurance policy for the Moretti family. I was supposed to release the funds to Luca when Antonio died.”
Bennett looked at Rebecca, tears streaming down his face.
“But my company went bankrupt two years ago,” Bennett confessed, his voice breaking. “I was going to lose everything, Rebecca. Our house, your mother's care facility... I had to do it.”
“Do what?” Rebecca asked, her voice turning cold.
“I started siphoning the money,” Bennett whispered. “I spent Antonio’s insurance policy.”
The cabin was dead silent.
“You stole fifty million dollars from my father?” Luca asked, his voice a lethal, vibrating rumble.
“I was going to pay it back!” Bennett pleaded. “But when Arthur Bellini died tonight... I knew you would come looking for the trust. I knew you would find out it was gone. I ran into the woods to transfer the last remaining million into a private account so I could flee the country before you killed me.”
Rebecca stared at the man who had raised her.
“You weren't trying to protect me,” she said, her voice hollow, shattered by the ultimate betrayal. “You were trying to save yourself.”
Bennett reached out for her. “Rebecca, please—”
Alexei stepped between them, his hand resting on his combat knife. “Don't touch her.”
Luca dropped Bennett back onto the floor in disgust.
“The money is gone,” Luca muttered, running a hand over his face. “My father’s war chest is empty. We have no leverage left.”
But as the words left his mouth, a loud, rhythmic thumping echoed from the sky outside.
The sound grew louder, shaking the dust from the cabin rafters.
Thwump. Thwump. Thwump.
We all looked toward the window.
Hovering over the tree line, emerging from the morning fog like dark birds of prey, were three massive, unmarked black helicopters.
“The Commission,” Marco breathed, raising his rifle.
Luca spun around, his eyes locking onto me.
“Catherine, get the keys! Take the twins to the boat! Now!” Luca roared over the deafening sound of the approaching choppers.
I grabbed the boat keys off the table.
But Alexei didn't move toward the back door.
Instead, the Russian-trained assassin walked over to the front window. He stared at the approaching helicopters, a cold, terrifying smile slowly spreading across his scarred face.
“Alexei, what are you doing?!” I screamed, grabbing his arm. “We have to go!”
Alexei looked down at me, and for the first time, his blue-gray eyes weren't filled with rage or violence. They were filled with a profound, terrifying acceptance.
“I’m not running, Mom,” Alexei whispered.
He reached into his tactical vest and pulled out a small, black detonator.
“Alexei, no!” Luca yelled, realizing what his nephew was holding.
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“Victor Volkov thought he was using me,” Alexei said, looking at the helicopters preparing to land in the clearing. “But he taught me one very important lesson. Always wire the battlefield before you invite the enemy.”
Alexei pressed the button on the detonator.
