Chapter 6 - THE STORY THEY WANTED CHICAGO TO BELIEVE
Daniel could barely stand.
Marcus helped him into a chair.
Mara brought water.
Daniel’s hands shook so badly he spilled half of it down his shirt.
“Who took you?” Gabriel asked.
Daniel looked toward Sophie’s bracelet in Mara’s hand.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
“Did she see anything?”
“She saw Anthony.”
Daniel nodded.
“Good.”
Anthony stiffened.
“Good?”
“You were supposed to find her.”
“I did.”
Daniel looked at him.
“You took long enough.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“Enough side conversations.”
Daniel looked exhausted.
“Vincent recruited me eight months ago.”
“To steal pharmaceuticals?”
“At first, I thought we were moving gray-market liquor.”
Mara believed him.
Restaurants had endless back doors for alcohol.
Daniel continued.
“Then I saw medical containers.”
“Why didn’t you stop?”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Stop how?”
“Walk away.”
“They had photographs of Sophie going to school.”
The room went silent.
There it was.
Not greed alone.
Not innocence either.
A man who had made one bad choice and discovered someone else could keep charging interest on it forever.
“I stayed,” Daniel said.
“Then I started copying everything I could.”
“The temperature recorder,” Mara said.
“Yes.”
“Who is above Vincent?”
Daniel looked at Gabriel.
“Someone who doesn’t need money.”
“That narrows it down poorly.”
“They want Moretti Freight.”
“Who?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I never met them.”
Gabriel’s patience thinned.
“Daniel.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“What happens Sunday?”
Daniel took another drink.
“The gala is full of donors, executives, press, judges, investors.”
“So?”
“They wanted Gabriel visibly impaired.”
Mara understood.
“The bourbon.”
“Yes.”
“What was in it?”
“A medication that drops blood pressure and causes confusion.”
Gabriel looked at Anthony.
“Not enough to kill me.”
“No.”
Daniel continued.
“They wanted video of you stumbling. Slurring. Maybe collapsing.”
“Why?”
“Because someone has been telling your lenders and partners for months that you’re unstable.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
Anthony looked away.
Mara caught it.
“You knew.”
Gabriel turned.
Anthony answered carefully.
“I heard rumors.”
“And said nothing?”
“I assumed they were business pressure.”
Daniel shook his head.
“They were groundwork.”
Mara felt cold.
A story.
Not an assassination.
An image.
A feared man suddenly looking weak before Chicago’s most connected people.
Then what?
Marcus asked the question.
“How does that transfer the company?”
“It doesn’t by itself.”
Daniel looked toward the A-04 tag.
“That opens South Yard’s executive control room.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
“For what?”
“Emergency routing.”
Anthony went pale.
That frightened Mara more than Daniel’s bruises.
“What?” she asked.
Anthony stood.
“If Gabriel is medically incapacitated during an active security emergency, command shifts.”
“To whom?”
Gabriel already knew.
“My family continuity board.”
Daniel nodded.
Anthony closed his eyes.
“And I chair it.”
Silence.
Mara looked at Anthony.
“You.”
“No.”
His answer came immediately.
“Who benefits?” she asked.
“Not me.”
“You literally just said control shifts to you.”
“Temporary control.”
Gabriel’s voice hardened.
“Still control.”
Anthony slammed one palm against the table.
“If I wanted your company, I’ve had twenty years to take it.”
That sounded true.
Which meant someone wanted Gabriel to believe Anthony was responsible.
The plan had layers.
Use Vincent.
Use Daniel.
Use Evelyn’s credential.
Make Anthony the obvious beneficiary.
Mara looked at the A-04 tag.
“Who knew your mother’s key still worked?”
Anthony answered.
“Vincent.”
“Anyone else?”
A long pause.
“Evelyn’s operations assistant.”
Gabriel’s expression changed.
“Celia.”
Anthony nodded.
Mara asked, “Where is she now?”
“Retired.”
“When?”
“Twelve years ago.”
“When Evelyn died?”
“Yes.”
“Still in Chicago?”
“No.”
Anthony hesitated.
“She moved to Wisconsin.”
Daniel gave a strange laugh.
Everyone looked at him.
“What?” Gabriel asked.
Daniel shook his head.
“You people really never look at service invoices.”
Mara leaned forward.
“What do you mean?”
“Celia Grant owns Midwest Linen Service.”
The same company entering South Yard every Thursday at 1:00 a.m.
The room went still.
Gabriel’s face became unreadable.
“My mother’s assistant owns the company stealing from me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Daniel’s expression tightened.
“I don’t know.”
Mara believed him this time.
Gabriel didn’t.
“What did Vincent tell you?”
“That Celia said your family stole something from her.”
“What?”
“He never said.”
Anthony spoke quietly.
“Her husband.”
Gabriel looked at him.
Anthony took a long breath.
“Thomas Grant ran one of our freight terminals.”
“What happened?”
“He died in a warehouse fire.”
“When?”
“Thirteen years ago.”
“One year before my mother.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel stared.
“Was my mother involved?”
Anthony’s silence became its own answer.
Mara said, “What happened?”
Anthony looked toward the windows.
“Thomas discovered Moretti freight was being used for illegal shipments.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“My father was dead by then.”
“Yes.”
“So who authorized them?”
Anthony didn’t answer.
Gabriel stepped closer.
“Who?”
“I did.”
The admission landed heavily.
Anthony continued before anyone could speak.
“I was trying to keep the family solvent.”
Gabriel laughed in disbelief.
“You used my company for illegal freight.”
“It was not your company then.”
“It was my mother’s.”
“Yes.”
“And Thomas Grant found out.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
The answer came fast.
“Did the fire start because of what you were moving?”
Anthony looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Nobody spoke.
The villain had changed again.
Celia wasn’t simply greedy.
Her husband had died because Anthony made a choice and the Moretti family buried the consequences.
“What did Evelyn do?” Gabriel asked.
“She paid Celia.”
“For silence?”
“For guilt.”
“That isn’t better.”
“I know.”
Mara looked at the photograph of Anthony outside Daniel’s apartment.
A man trying to repair damage without exposing himself.
Same pattern.
Secrets disguised as protection.
“What does Celia want?” Mara asked.
Daniel answered.
“She wants Gabriel to lose the company the way she lost Thomas.”
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“So she steals medicine?”
“She tells herself she’s taking back what Moretti blood bought.”
“And innocent patients?”
Daniel looked down.
“She stopped caring about the line.”
Mara understood that too.
Pain could begin as a reason.
Then become permission.
Gabriel walked toward the window.
“Cancel the gala.”
“No,” Mara said.
Everyone looked at her.
Gabriel’s expression went cold.
“You have developed an unfortunate habit of saying that.”
“If you cancel, Celia knows Daniel talked.”
“I’m not offering myself as bait.”
“She already thinks the plan is working.”
“The bourbon didn’t work.”
“But she may not know why.”
Daniel shook his head.
“She knows.”
“How?”
“Vincent told her Mara stopped the bottle.”
Mara’s skin went cold.
Gabriel turned.
“That makes Mara the problem.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked directly at her.
“That’s why I warned Vincent not to let you leave with him.”
Mara felt something heavy settle in her chest.
“You thought being seen with Gabriel would make me a target.”
“I knew it would.”
Gabriel’s voice became quiet.
“Then Sunday isn’t about making me collapse anymore.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“What is it about?”
Daniel looked at Mara.
“They need her gone before she sees the second route.”
“What second route?”
Daniel swallowed.
“The one inside the ballroom.”
Mara remembered linen carts.
Coat check.
Wine stations.
Service trays.
Two hundred wealthy guests.
Then something clicked.
“Champagne.”
Daniel’s eyes lifted.
Mara stood.
“The gala champagne arrives Sunday afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“Through Halcyon receiving.”
“Yes.”
“And empty cases leave after the event.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
Mara’s heart started pounding.
“You’re not stealing freight Sunday.”
“No.”
“You’re moving something out.”
Daniel looked at Gabriel.
“A master access drive.”
Anthony went white.
Gabriel asked, “Access to what?”
Daniel answered.
“Every Moretti freight route in North America.”
Then he looked at Mara.
“And Celia already has someone inside the gala assigned to carry it out.”
Mara whispered, “Who?”
Daniel reached into his pocket.
He removed a photograph.
Mara recognized the person immediately.
So did Tessa.
Vincent Keller stood beside Celia Grant.
But Vincent wasn’t the person circled.
May you like
Tessa was.
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