Chapter 7 - THE WRONG BROTHER
Gabriel looked at Father Michael as if the old priest had changed languages.
“What does that mean?”
Father Michael folded his hands.
“The attack at Pier Nine was not designed for Daniel.”
Sofia sat slowly.
Elena closed her eyes.
She knew.
I could see it.
Gabriel saw it too.
“You knew this part?”
Elena’s hands moved.
NOT AT FIRST.
“When did you know?”
AFTER DANIEL WOKE.
Gabriel turned back to the priest.
“Who was supposed to be in my father’s car?”
Father Michael looked at him.
“Your father.”
The room went quiet.
Nine years of family history rearranged itself again.
Daniel had not been targeted because he was leaving the business.
He had taken Anthony Romano’s car because his own driver had gone home sick.
Whoever arranged the attack at Pier Nine had expected Anthony.
Not Daniel.
Gabriel paced once across the little room.
“Then why did Daniel think I was next?”
“Because,” Father Michael said, “he realized the plan had changed after the mistake.”
“What plan?”
“To remove Anthony first.”
“And then?”
Father Michael looked at him.
“You.”
Gabriel stopped moving.
Sofia spoke.
“Why Gabriel?”
Father Michael’s answer was simple.
“Because Daniel was leaving.”
If Daniel left the Romano organization and Anthony died, Gabriel became the center of the family whether he wanted it or not.
And if Gabriel disappeared too, only one senior Romano remained with enough history and authority to hold everything together.
Nobody said Salvatore’s name.
Nobody had to.
Gabriel stared at the floor.
“This still doesn’t prove my uncle ordered anything.”
“No,” Father Michael said.
“It proves he benefited.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
I looked at Gabriel then.
For all the stories about him, he was doing something many powerful men never managed.
He was resisting the answer he wanted simply because wanting it did not make it true.
Father Michael seemed to recognize that.
“Your brother resisted the same temptation.”
Gabriel looked up.
“What?”
“Daniel suspected Salvatore immediately. But suspicion wasn’t proof.”
“What did he know?”
“That Salvatore had been arguing with Anthony about succession.”
Sofia frowned.
“Succession to what?”
“Control. Influence. The family businesses. Whatever name men choose when they are afraid to admit they mean power.”
Elena signed.
ANTHONY WANTED DANIEL.
SALVATORE WANTED GABRIEL.
Gabriel’s face changed.
I translated.
“Why would my uncle want me?”
Father Michael answered.
“Because you listened to him.”
That hurt.
Daniel challenged Salvatore.
Gabriel admired him.
Daniel wanted to shrink the dangerous side of the Romano world.
Young Gabriel believed Salvatore when he said strength kept everyone safe.
If Anthony died and Daniel left, Gabriel would inherit.
And Salvatore would stand beside him.
Sofia whispered, “He didn’t need to become the boss.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“He only needed the boss to need him.”
That was the motive.
Not cartoon greed.
Not a crown.
Influence.
A man convinced that his judgment was the only thing standing between the family and ruin.
Father Michael opened a drawer.
“I have something else.”
It was not a file.
Not a confession.
It was a coat button.
Dark horn.
Large.
Exactly like the original buttons on Daniel’s navy overcoat.
Gabriel took it.
“Where did you get this?”
“Daniel had it in his hand when Enzo brought him beneath the chapel.”
I remembered the mismatched black plastic button.
The missing one.
Father Michael continued.
“We thought it had torn from Daniel’s coat.”
“It did,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
I took the coat from the bag we had carried from the house and held it beside the button.
Same size.
Same color.
Same worn edge.
But something was wrong.
The thread still attached to the button wasn’t navy.
It was burgundy.
Sofia noticed too.
“That thread doesn’t match the coat.”
“No.”
Father Michael nodded.
“Daniel tore it from someone else.”
Gabriel examined the button.
“Who wore burgundy?”
Elena opened her eyes.
Her face had gone pale.
She signed.
SALVATORE.
Gabriel looked at her sharply.
“That night?”
YES.
Father Michael nodded.
“When Salvatore came to the chapel the next afternoon, he wore a gray jacket. But I remember Elena asking where his burgundy overcoat was.”
I translated.
Gabriel looked from the button to the priest.
“Salvatore came to the chapel?”
The old man nodded.
There it was.
A fact Salvatore had never admitted.
“When?”
“About six hours before Daniel died.”
“Did Daniel see him?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Father Michael swallowed.
“Daniel tried to get out of bed.”
Elena began signing.
HE WAS ANGRY.
VERY ANGRY.
Father Michael continued.
“Daniel accused Salvatore of sending Anthony to Pier Nine.”
Gabriel frowned.
“I thought Daniel was the one who went.”
“He was. But Anthony was supposed to arrive later. Daniel said the meeting had been structured so Anthony would follow.”
“Why?”
“Because someone told Anthony that Daniel and Enzo were preparing to surrender control of two freight terminals.”
Sofia shook her head.
“They were leaving.”
“Exactly.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
“Someone created a reason my father couldn’t ignore.”
Father Michael nodded.
“And put it at a place where he would be vulnerable.”
The plan had depended on Anthony following.
Daniel arrived first in Anthony’s car.
Whoever was waiting saw the car, not the driver.
The mistake nearly killed Daniel.
Then the conspirator had to improvise.
Gabriel looked at the burgundy-threaded button.
“Daniel grabbed my uncle.”
Father Michael nodded.
“He demanded the truth.”
“And?”
“Salvatore denied arranging the attack.”
“Did Daniel believe him?”
“No.”
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“But you did?”
Father Michael hesitated.
“That afternoon, yes.”
Sofia leaned forward.
“Why?”
“Because Salvatore said something Daniel could not explain.”
“What?”
Father Michael looked at Elena.
Then at Gabriel.
“He said he had not told anyone Anthony would be going to Pier Nine.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Then how did the attackers know?”
“That was Daniel’s question.”
The room went quiet.
Father Michael continued.
“Only three people knew Anthony intended to follow Daniel.”
Gabriel counted silently.
“Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Father Michael looked toward Elena.
But Elena shook her head.
Not me.
Then the priest said the third name.
“Enzo Bellini.”
Sofia stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor.
“No.”
Father Michael raised a hand.
“I am not saying Enzo arranged it.”
“My father saved Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“Then why would he—”
“He wouldn’t.”
Sofia stopped.
Father Michael leaned toward her.
“That was Daniel’s final conclusion too.”
Sofia’s eyes filled.
“Then someone heard them.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Nobody knew.
Not yet.
Then I remembered something.
Salvatore had understood sign language for years because people spoke freely around someone they believed could not understand.
What if another person had survived by doing the same thing?
Not with sign language.
With invisibility.
Staff.
Drivers.
Security.
Household employees.
People rich families spoke around as if furniture had no ears.
I looked at Elena.
“Mrs. Romano, where did Daniel and Enzo talk about Pier Nine?”
She signed.
ANTHONY’S STUDY.
“Who else was there?”
NO ONE.
I shook my head.
“Not family. Staff.”
Elena thought.
Then her hands stopped.
Her eyes widened.
ONE PERSON BROUGHT COFFEE.
Gabriel stared at her.
“Who?”
Elena signed a name.
And this time Gabriel didn’t need my translation.
His face told me he recognized it immediately.
THOMAS.
Thomas Vale.
The man currently standing outside the retirement home.
Gabriel’s security chief.
His father’s former driver.
May you like
And the same man who had guarded the Romano family for twenty-six years.
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