Chapter 7 - THE BETRAYAL THAT NEVER DIED|
I learned about Peter Mercer at three in the morning.
Daniel had driven Mrs. Carter and me to a secure house outside Chicago, a modest brick property surrounded by tall pine trees.
It was nothing like the Moretti mansion.
There were no chandeliers.
No marble floors.
No servants waiting in the hallways.
But there were warm blankets, a working fireplace, and a kitchen that smelled faintly of cinnamon.
For the first time that night, Mrs. Carter seemed able to breathe.
I helped her sit on the couch.
Then I made tea.
Daniel remained near the living room window, speaking quietly into his phone.
When he finally returned, his face looked older.
"Olivia."
I looked up.
"Luca wants me to stay here until morning."
"Is something wrong?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Something about my family has come up."
Mrs. Carter slowly lowered her teacup.
"Your father?"
Daniel stared at her.
"You knew Peter Mercer?"
She nodded.
"He worked for Giovanni."
Daniel swallowed.
"Rebecca Vale says he betrayed Anthony."
Mrs. Carter closed her eyes.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then she whispered:
"Peter was a complicated man."
Daniel looked hurt.
"That's not an answer."
"No."
She opened her eyes.
"But it's the only honest one I can give you without knowing what Rebecca has found."
Daniel sat across from her.
"My father died in a warehouse fire."
Mrs. Carter nodded.
"I remember."
"I was eight."
"I remember that too."
His voice became strained.
"Giovanni came to our house afterward."
Mrs. Carter looked down.
"He paid for the funeral."
Daniel swallowed.
"He helped my mother keep our home."
"Yes."
"And when I turned twenty-seven, Luca gave me a job."
Mrs. Carter's eyes filled.
Daniel looked at her.
"Was that guilt?"
She didn't answer.
His expression crumpled.
"Was my entire career some kind of debt repayment?"
I set the tea tray aside.
"Daniel, nobody knows that."
He looked toward me.
"You don't understand."
"Then tell me."
He laughed bitterly.
"I spent fifteen years believing I was protecting the son of the man who saved my family."
His eyes filled.
"And now I'm being told my father helped destroy his."
Mrs. Carter reached for his hand.
"Whatever Peter did, you didn't do it."
Daniel looked at her.
"But I may have helped Salvatore without knowing."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
He leaned forward.
"Three months ago, Vanessa asked me to authorize additional security access for her family."
Mrs. Carter stiffened.
"Why?"
"She said her father had received threats."
I remembered the silver pins.
"The men at the hospital?"
Daniel nodded.
"I approved their temporary credentials."
My stomach dropped.
"And tonight?"
"Some of those credentials were still active."
He covered his face.
"I opened the door."
I stared at him.
He had been trying to protect us.
And somehow, his own decisions had made us vulnerable.
Mrs. Carter spoke gently.
"Daniel, you trusted a woman who was about to marry Luca."
He shook his head.
"I should have verified everything."
"Yes," she answered.
He looked up, surprised.
She continued.
"And now you must fix it."
Something about her answer steadied him.
He straightened.
"I will."
His phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
Then stood.
"Luca's calling."
Daniel stepped into the hallway.
A few minutes later, he returned.
His expression had changed.
"Mrs. Carter."
She looked up.
"Luca wants to speak with you."
He handed her the phone.
She pressed it against her ear.
"Lu?"
I couldn't hear his answer.
But I saw her face soften.
"She's alive?"
Mrs. Carter began crying.
"Oh, thank the Lord."
I squeezed her hand.
Then she listened.
Her expression slowly changed.
"Peter Mercer?"
A long pause followed.
"No, sweetheart."
She swallowed.
"Giovanni never told me the whole story."
Another silence.
Then she whispered:
"But I know where he kept the records."
Daniel straightened.
Mrs. Carter looked toward me.
"Olivia has the silver key."
My heart began pounding.
I reached into my pocket.
It was still there.
Mrs. Carter continued listening.
Then nodded.
"Yes, Lu."
She smiled through tears.
"We'll bring it."
The call ended.
I looked at her.
"What's happening?"
Mrs. Carter took a breath.
"Luca is coming here."
"Why?"
"Because the key opens a safe-deposit box."
Daniel frowned.
"At which bank?"
"First Harbor Trust."
He looked surprised.
"That bank closed years ago."
Mrs. Carter nodded.
"I know."
My stomach tightened.
"Then how do we find the box?"
She looked at me.
"The accounts were transferred."
"To where?"
She paused.
"To a private storage facility Giovanni owned."
Daniel leaned forward.
"Which facility?"
Mrs. Carter's eyes filled.
"One that hasn't been used since his death."
I waited.
Then she whispered:
"The old Moretti theater."
I stared at her.
"The theater downtown?"
She nodded.
I knew the building.
Everyone in Chicago did.
It had once been a beautiful performance hall.
Then it had closed after a fire damaged the upper balconies.
For years, people had argued about whether it should be restored or demolished.
Luca still owned it.
Mrs. Carter took the key from my hand.
"Giovanni kept his most important papers there."
Daniel frowned.
"Why not in a bank?"
"Because Salvatore had friends in banks."
A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows.
I glanced outside.
The pine trees swayed in the darkness.
Then something caught my attention.
A pair of headlights had appeared beyond the gate.
I stood.
"Daniel?"
He turned.
"What's wrong?"
"Someone's outside."
He moved toward the window.
A black sedan was parked beside the road.
Its engine was running.
Daniel's expression hardened.
"Stay away from the windows."
Mrs. Carter gripped the key.
"Has Salvatore found us?"
Daniel didn't answer.
He reached for his radio.
Before he could speak, the sedan's headlights switched off.
The vehicle disappeared into darkness.
I felt my heartbeat pounding in my throat.
Then the phone on the kitchen counter rang.
It was a landline.
Nobody had used it since we arrived.
Daniel stared at it.
"Who knows this number?"
Mrs. Carter shook her head.
"I don't."
The phone rang again.
And again.
Finally, Daniel answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke.
I couldn't make out the words.
But I saw Daniel's face change.
"Who is this?"
He listened.
Then glanced at Mrs. Carter.
"What do you want?"
The voice continued.
Daniel's hand tightened around the receiver.
"Stay away from this house."
Then he hung up.
I stepped closer.
"Who was it?"
He stared at the telephone.
"Someone who knew my father."
Mrs. Carter went pale.
"What did he say?"
Daniel swallowed.
"He said Peter Mercer didn't die in the warehouse fire."
The room became completely silent.
I stared at him.
"But you told us—"
"I know what I told you."
His voice shook.
"That's what I've believed for thirty-four years."
Mrs. Carter slowly stood.
"Daniel."
He looked at her.
She was staring at the telephone.
"What else did the man say?"
Daniel hesitated.
Then answered quietly.
"He said my father is alive."
A chill ran through me.
"And?"
Daniel's eyes filled.
"He said Peter wants to see me."
Mrs. Carter pressed a hand against her chest.
"Where?"
Daniel looked toward the window.
"At the old Moretti theater."
I felt sick.
The same building connected to Giovanni's hidden records.
The same place Luca was planning to investigate.
Daniel continued.
"He said to come alone."
Mrs. Carter shook her head.
"Absolutely not."
But Daniel was staring at the silver key.
Then he whispered:
"He also said something else."
"What?"
"He said Giovanni lied to Luca about Anthony."
Mrs. Carter's voice trembled.
"We already know that."
Daniel shook his head.
"No."
May you like
He looked directly at her.
"He said Anthony Vale isn't dead."
