Chapter 13 - Red HookBy sunrise, every news helicopter in New York wanted to know why police cars surrounded the Moretti estate.
No one got close.
The official statement was simple.
Medical emergency.
Security incident.
No further comment.
The truth traveled underground instead.
Alejandro Moretti had been poisoned.
Bruno Ricci had been arrested.
Sofia Bellini had betrayed him.
A maid’s little girl had saved his life.
By noon, every enemy Alejandro had ever made was asking the same question.
Was the wolf wounded?
Clara did not care about territory.
She cared about Red Hook.
Detective Shaw refused to let her come.
Alejandro refused to stay behind.
Both were ignored.
Clara stood in the garage wearing a borrowed black coat, Emma asleep in a car seat inside the armored SUV.
“You are not bringing her,” Shaw said.
“I’m not leaving her anywhere Bruno can reach.”
“Then stay here.”
Clara looked at Alejandro. “Can you promise this house is safe?”
He did not lie.
“No.”
Detective Shaw muttered something under her breath.
They drove in a convoy through a city waking under gray skies.
Alejandro sat across from Clara in the back of the SUV. His breathing was still rough. His face looked carved from exhaustion.
Emma slept between them, one hand wrapped around the rabbit backpack strap.
After twenty minutes, Alejandro said, “Tell me about Nathan.”
Clara looked out the window. “Why?”
“Because if we find him alive, I should know the man whose life my house helped destroy.”
She wanted to hate him for saying it gently.
“He was kind,” she said. “Too trusting. He sang badly when he cooked. He used to put Emma on his shoulders and pretend she was taller than buildings.”
Alejandro looked at Emma.
“Kiara liked rooftops,” he said.
Clara turned.
“She would ask me to lift her so she could see the whole city. She said the people looked small enough to forgive.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the convoy reached Red Hook.
The warehouse sat near the water, brick-faced and rotting, with broken windows and a faded sign from a business that no longer existed.
Police surrounded it.
Inside, they found cages.
Not for animals.
Temporary holding rooms built from chain-link and steel.
They found records, cash, burner phones, and shipments marked as restaurant supplies.
In the back office, they found a wall covered in photographs.
Alejandro.
Sofia.
Judges.
Senator Halden.
Clara.
Emma.
Nathan.
And Kiara.
Alejandro stopped moving.
Kiara’s photograph had been taken weeks before her death.
She stood beside her nanny near the estate driveway, holding her stuffed bear.
On the bottom corner of the photo was a handwritten note.
First leverage failed. Try accident.
Alejandro’s hand crushed the paper.
May you like
Clara understood before anyone said it.
Kiara’s death had not been an accident.
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