Chapter 12 - The Night the Restaurant Burned|
The drive to Taylor Street felt endless.
Luca was sitting beside me in the back of the SUV, holding his phone so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
Detective Torres had already dispatched officers to the restaurant.
A fire crew was being placed on standby.
Olivia had instructed us not to enter the building under any circumstances.
But I could see Luca fighting the instinct to run straight through its doors.
“Frank needs you alive,” I told him.
He looked at me.
“That's my father in there.”
“I know.”
“Anthony's hurt him before.”
“Then don't give Anthony another person to hurt.”
Luca closed his eyes.
For a moment, I saw the frightened nine-year-old boy hidden beneath the man everyone feared.
The boy who had lost his mother.
The boy whose father had spent twenty-eight years protecting him from the truth.
Then Luca nodded.
“We follow the police's instructions.”
When we reached Taylor Street, the street was nearly deserted.
The restaurant's windows were dark.
A black sedan stood near the rear entrance.
Two police vehicles waited farther down the block, with their lights turned off.
Detective Torres approached our SUV.
“Mr. Moretti, stay here.”
Luca stepped out.
“My father is inside.”
“We know.”
“We're establishing where the suspect and your father are before moving in.”
He stared at the building.
“Please bring him out.”
The detective nodded.
“We're going to do everything we can.”
I stood beside Luca.
The restaurant's red awning moved gently in the cold wind.
It was difficult to believe that such an ordinary building had become the center of so much pain.
Inside those walls, Elena had cooked birthday dinners.
Frank had taught Luca how to make pasta.
My mother had worked beside a woman she believed deserved justice.
And now Anthony Bellini was threatening to destroy everything they had protected.
Suddenly, Luca's phone rang.
Anthony.
He answered on speaker.
“Where are you?”
Anthony asked.
“Outside.”
“Did you bring the records?”
Luca looked toward Detective Torres.
She signaled for him to keep talking.
“Yes.”
Anthony laughed.
“Then come to the front door.”
“Send my father out first.”
“Always negotiating.”
Luca's voice trembled.
“Anthony, he's seventy-eight years old.”
“He's done nothing to you.”
There was a pause.
Then Anthony answered.
“Your father should've taught your mother to mind her own business.”
I watched Luca's face change.
He clenched his jaw.
But he didn't shout.
“Let him go.”
Anthony ignored him.
“Your mother ruined everything when she started asking questions about Hawthorne.”
“And that fool Daniel Price couldn't even do his job without leaving evidence behind.”
Detective Torres immediately wrote something in her notebook and signaled to the officers listening nearby.
Luca took a breath.
“What job?”
Anthony laughed coldly.
“Don't play innocent.”
“You've heard the tape.”
“My mother died because you ordered her brakes damaged.”
Another pause followed.
Then Anthony said something that made my stomach twist.
“She had every chance to walk away.”
“She chose those restaurant owners over her own family.”
Luca's expression crumpled.
“No.”
His voice was suddenly steady.
“She chose to do what was right.”
Anthony's tone changed.
“You have five minutes.”
The call ended.
Then we saw smoke.
A thin gray ribbon began curling beneath the restaurant's rear door.
“Fire!” I shouted.
Detective Torres immediately radioed the officers.
The situation changed in seconds.
Police moved toward the entrances while firefighters approached with protective equipment.
A sharp crash came from inside.
Then a man screamed.
I grabbed Luca's arm.
“That's Frank!”
Luca moved forward.
Detective Torres stopped him.
“Mr. Moretti, stay behind the line!”
The front doors suddenly opened.
An officer emerged, supporting Frank beneath one arm.
The elderly man was coughing violently.
His face was covered in soot.
“Dad!”
Luca ran toward him as soon as the officer led him into the safe area.
Frank collapsed into his son's arms.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“I thought you needed me.”
Luca held him tightly.
“I do need you, Dad.”
“Every day.”
Paramedics hurried over and began checking Frank for smoke exposure.
I knelt beside them, crying with relief.
But inside the restaurant, something exploded with a loud crack.
Flames flashed behind the kitchen windows.
A firefighter shouted for additional equipment.
For one terrible moment, I thought the building would be lost.
Then Detective Torres emerged from the side entrance with two officers.
Between them was Anthony Bellini.
His expensive coat was covered in dust.
A cut marked his forehead.
And for the first time since I'd met him, he wasn't smiling.
The officers had found him trying to leave through a service corridor after the fire started.
Another man was detained near the rear exit.
Investigators would later recover evidence of an accelerant and equipment brought into the building that night.
Anthony was handcuffed.
He saw Luca holding Frank.
His expression twisted.
“You think this is over?”
Luca looked at him.
“No.”
Anthony smiled bitterly.
“You don't know what it takes to build an empire.”
Luca slowly stood.
For a moment, the two men stared at each other.
Then Luca stepped closer.
“You're right.”
He looked toward the burning restaurant.
“I spent years believing being feared meant being powerful.”
“But my mother built something people loved.”
“My father kept it alive even after she died.”
“And Claire risked everything because she believed they deserved the truth.”
Anthony's smile faded.
Luca took another breath.
“You built your fortune on people being afraid to speak.”
“Now they're speaking.”
Detective Torres led Anthony toward a patrol car.
As they passed, Anthony glanced toward me.
“Your mother was just as stubborn as you.”
I looked directly at him.
“Thank you.”
He frowned.
I continued.
“She taught me not to be ashamed of that.”
For once, Anthony Bellini had no answer.
Behind us, firefighters continued battling the flames.
Frank sat inside an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket.
Luca knelt beside him.
“Dad, I'm sorry I couldn't save the restaurant.”
Frank looked toward the building.
Then he touched his son's face.
“Luca, it's bricks and wood.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Your mother was never just those walls.”
He looked at me.
“She was the love we carried out of them.”
I covered my mouth as I began crying again.
That night, the kitchen suffered extensive damage.
Part of the roof collapsed.
But firefighters prevented the flames from spreading through the entire building.
And the evidence we'd already recovered was safely outside Anthony's reach.
As the sun rose over Taylor Street, Detective Torres approached us.
She explained that Anthony was being held while investigators examined the threats, the fire, and the historical evidence.
Then she looked toward Frank.
“Mr. Moretti, we're going to need your statement.”
Frank nodded.
He no longer looked frightened.
He looked tired.
And strangely peaceful.
“For twenty-eight years,” he whispered, “I've been waiting to tell someone what happened to my Elena.”
He reached for Luca's hand.
May you like
Then mine.
“And this time, I'm not going to be silent.”
