Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT I LOST MY EMPIRE
By one seventeen in the morning, I no longer controlled the Vale organization.
That's how quickly power disappears.
Not with explosions.
Not with armies.
With phone calls.
Men who had called me boss for fifteen years suddenly stopped answering.
Three captains declared loyalty to Lorenzo.
Two disappeared.
One sent me a message consisting of six words.
Nothing personal. I have a family.
I didn't blame him.
That surprised me.
The old Roman Vale would have memorized his name and punished him later.
That night, I understood something my father never did.
Fear could force men to stand beside you.
It could never make them yours.
Gabriel watched me delete the message.
“Hurts?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
I looked around Northstar's underground headquarters.
Rows of records documented years of crimes conducted under the protection of my name.
My empire.
Even if I hadn't known, I had benefited from the silence surrounding it.
Maybe losing the empire was not the worst thing that could happen.
Maybe keeping it would be.
Beatrice stood near Patrick's recovered files.
“What are you going to do?”
“Burn it down.”
Gabriel stared.
“The building?”
“The organization.”
Silence.
Marco spoke first.
“Boss…”
“Don't call me that.”
He looked stunned.
I continued.
“Copy every Northstar file.”
“To where?”
“Federal prosecutors.”
Marco almost dropped the computer drive.
“You're serious.”
“Yes.”
“You'll go to prison.”
“Maybe.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“You understand those files contain Vale operations that have nothing to do with Northstar.”
“I know.”
“Your operations.”
“I know.”
Beatrice stared at me.
“Why?”
I looked at the cells.
At the locked doors.
At evidence of people turned into numbers because powerful men believed nobody could stop them.
“My father chose the empire over his son.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“I won't make the same choice.”
Gabriel's expression changed.
He said nothing.
Marco began copying the files.
Then Beatrice touched my arm.
“Roman.”
It was the first time she had used my name.
I looked at her.
“You don't have to destroy yourself to prove you're different from them.”
“I'm not proving anything.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Ending it.”
She held my gaze.
For months, she had lowered her eyes whenever I entered a room.
Now she didn't.
“I thought you were a monster,” she said.
“That was reasonable.”
“When I started working for you, I heard stories.”
“Most were probably true.”
“You frightened me.”
“I know.”
“But the night you followed me…”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You mean stalked you through Chicago?”
“Exactly.”
Despite everything, she smiled.
“You could have punished me.”
“I considered it.”
“I know.”
“But you wanted to understand first.”
Her smile faded.
“That matters.”
Before I could answer, Marco turned from the computer.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Lorenzo is moving money.”
“How much?”
“Everything.”
Accounts connected to Vale Holdings were being drained.
Hundreds of millions.
He wasn't just taking control.
He was preparing to disappear.
Gabriel pointed at another screen.
“Plane?”
Marco checked.
A private Vale jet had filed a flight plan.
Departure four forty-five.
Destination listed as Montreal.
False.
“He'll change destination after takeoff,” I said.
Beatrice looked at the mansion feed.
“Then why is he still there?”
Because he was waiting for something.
Or someone.
My phone rang.
Lorenzo.
I answered.
“Enjoying my house?”
“Our house,” he said.
“Not anymore.”
“Don't be dramatic.”
“You're stealing everything.”
“I'm preserving what you suddenly decided to destroy.”
“You saw the data transfer.”
“Of course.”
I looked toward the ceiling.
Northstar's systems were compromised.
“Then you know it's over.”
“No, Roman.”
He sounded almost affectionate.
“For you, maybe.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“What about me?”
“At the mansion before three.”
“Why?”
“Because there is something your mother never knew.”
My jaw tightened.
“You've run out of secrets.”
He laughed.
“Have I?”
“What happens if I don't come?”
“I release records showing Roman Vale personally authorized Northstar.”
My blood went cold.
“I never did.”
“I know.”
“You forged them.”
“For years.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Of course.
Lorenzo had been preparing for the day he might need to sacrifice me.
“Federal investigators receive two sets of files,” Lorenzo said. “One makes me a businessman. The other makes you the architect.”
“You think that saves you?”
“It buys confusion.”
“What do you want?”
“Gabriel.”
My brother stared at the phone.
“No.”
Lorenzo continued.
“Bring him to the mansion.”
“Why?”
“Because twelve years ago I made one mistake.”
“You didn't kill him.”
“I hesitated.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“And my father spent the next decade reminding me that hesitation makes men weak.”
I looked at Beatrice.
She shook her head.
Lorenzo continued.
“Tonight I correct it.”
The line disconnected.
Gabriel reached for his coat.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You don't give orders anymore, remember?”
“He wants to kill you.”
“He wanted that twelve years ago.”
“He wants it more now.”
“And you need him talking.”
I hated that he was right.
Beatrice stepped forward.
“I have an idea.”
“No.”
“You don't know what it is.”
“I know it involves you.”
“Yes.”
“Then no.”
She folded her arms.
“Roman.”
“Beatrice.”
“Lorenzo doesn't see me as important.”
“He kidnapped you.”
“He sees me as useful leverage. Different thing.”
Gabriel smiled.
“She has a point.”
“Stop encouraging her.”
“No.”
Beatrice pointed at the dining hall camera feed.
“I know your mansion better than most of Lorenzo's men.”
She did.
Maid.
Invisible.
She knew service stairs, pantry doors, laundry corridors, employee entrances.
All the spaces wealthy men never noticed.
“I can get inside without using the main gate.”
I stared at her.
“Why would you?”
“To access the security room.”
Marco looked up.
“If she restores Roman's private system, we can record everything Lorenzo says.”
“And unlock the side gates,” Beatrice added.
Gabriel nodded.
“Good plan.”
“No.”
Beatrice walked toward me.
“My husband died because he saved Gabriel.”
Her voice softened.
“For eleven years I wished I had been brave enough to ask more questions.”
She held my gaze.
“I am done wishing I had been braver.”
At two thirty-eight, Gabriel and I approached the mansion through the front gate.
No weapons.
Lorenzo's condition.
Beatrice entered through an old laundry delivery tunnel behind the carriage house.
Marco coordinated from Northstar.
The gates opened.
Thirty armed men waited in the courtyard.
Gabriel whistled.
“Warm welcome.”
“Try not to irritate anyone.”
“You brought me because I'm charming.”
“I brought you because you refused to stay behind.”
We entered the main hall.
Lorenzo sat at the dining table.
My father's chair.
A bottle of whiskey beside him.
“Brothers.”
He smiled.
“Sit.”
We did.
He poured three glasses.
Gabriel didn't touch his.
Neither did I.
Lorenzo lifted his.
“To family.”
Gabriel said, “You're running out.”
Lorenzo laughed.
“I did miss you.”
Then he looked at me.
“Did you know he begged for you?”
I turned toward Gabriel.
He froze.
“At the warehouse,” Lorenzo continued. “Before the fire.”
“Shut up.”
Gabriel's voice changed.
Lorenzo ignored him.
“He kept saying, ‘Roman will come.’”
My chest tightened.
Gabriel stared at the table.
“I waited,” he whispered.
I couldn't speak.
“I thought you'd come.”
“I didn't know.”
“I know.”
Lorenzo watched us.
That was what he wanted.
Pain.
Division.
Then every light in the mansion flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The private security system had rebooted.
Beatrice had made it.
Lorenzo noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
I smiled.
For the first time that night, he looked uncertain.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
The hidden cameras came online.
Every word was now being recorded.
Lorenzo stood.
Then the dining room doors opened.
Beatrice walked inside.
She held Patrick's recorder.
Lorenzo stared.
“You.”
She placed it on the table.
“My husband wanted the truth heard.”
Lorenzo reached for his gun.
Gabriel moved.
I moved faster.
But before any of us fired, another voice came from the doorway.
“Enough.”
Marco entered.
Behind him stood federal agents.
Lorenzo's face changed.
I looked at Marco.
“What did you do?”
He swallowed.
“What I should have done seven years ago.”
The agents raised weapons.
“Lorenzo Vale! Hands where we can see them!”
For one second, I believed it was finished.
Then Lorenzo smiled.
And pressed a button hidden beneath the table.
A red light began flashing.
Gabriel stared at it.
“What is that?”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“The final lesson your father taught me.”
A timer appeared on the wall.
04:59.
04:58.
04:57.
May you like
Lorenzo smiled.
“Never build an empire you aren't willing to bury.”
