“Then why didn’t he give it to me?”
Ryan looked away.
“Because I asked him not to.”
There it was.
Not Dad.
Ryan.
“You asked.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Cowardice.”
No excuse.
Good.
“I was afraid you’d never marry me.”
The honesty hurt.
“I might not have.”
“I know.”
“You took that choice.”
“Yes.”
“You let me marry you without knowing something that could have changed my answer.”
“Yes.”
His voice broke.
“I did.”
I stood.
Ryan didn’t move.
“I need time.”
“You have it.”
“I might leave.”
His face went white.
But he nodded.
“I know.”
“You don’t get to punish anyone if I do.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t get to threaten Ethan because Sophia leaves him.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t get to turn Luca into an excuse to become who you were.”
His jaw tightened.
Then relaxed.
“I won’t.”
I looked at him.
“Promise?”
He hesitated.
That surprised me.
Then:
“No.”
I stared.
He continued.
“I won’t promise something because you’re angry and I want you to stay.”
His eyes were wet.
“I will tell you what I choose.”
“What?”
“I choose not to become that man again.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
Damn him.
Even now.
Learning.
I left Portland that afternoon.
Alone.
Ryan didn’t stop me.
I went to Chicago.
Stayed in my father’s old house.
For the first time in decades, I slept in my childhood bedroom.
On the third day, I found a letter.
Dad had left dozens.
This one was labeled:
FOR CLAIRE, IF RYAN EVER TELLS YOU.
I almost screamed.
Instead I opened it.
Claire,
If you’re reading this, Moretti finally grew a spine.
I laughed through tears.
Dad continued.
You will be angry with me.
You should be.
I knew.
I chose not to tell you.
Ryan asked me not to, but the decision was mine.
Do not let him carry my cowardice for me.
I believed people could become more than the worst thing they had done.
I still believe that.
But I also believed I had the right to decide which truths would hurt you unnecessarily.
I was wrong.
Your mother told me that for years.
She was usually right.
Do not tell her I wrote that.
I smiled.
Then the last paragraph:
If you leave Ryan after learning the truth, I support you.
If you stay, I support you.
The point is not whether he deserves another chance.
The point is that the choice must finally be yours.
Love,
Dad.
I pressed the letter to my chest.
Choice.
Again.
Always choice.
My phone rang.
Sophia.
“Mom.”
“What happened?”
“Luca moved the meeting.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Where?”
“Hale Maritime Pier Seventeen.”
My father’s pier.
Of course.
“Where’s Ryan?”
Silence.
“Sophia.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“What?”
“Ethan went.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who went with him?”
Sophia’s voice shook.
“Me.”
I stood so quickly the chair fell.
“Where are you?”
“Pier Seventeen.”
“Sophia—”
“I needed Luca to think Ethan brought the agreement.”
“Get out.”
“Mom—”
“Now.”
Then I heard a man’s voice behind her.
“Well.”
Luca Bellandi.
“You really do sound like your mother.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Then dialed Ryan.
He answered on the first ring.
“Claire?”
“Pier Seventeen.”
Silence.
“Sophia is there.”
Another silence.
Then Ryan said:
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“What?”
“We are coming.”
“Claire—”
“Beside.”
He stopped.
Twenty-three years earlier, we had toasted to that word.
Neither behind.
Only beside.
His voice changed.
“Beside.”
And for the first time since learning the truth about my father, I chose Ryan again.
Not forever.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
Chap 9
He got a mother.
That was his first mistake.
Pier Seventeen had belonged to Hale Maritime for fifty years.
My father took me there as a child.
I knew every warehouse.
Every service road.
Every office.
Ryan knew the criminal world.
I knew the building.
Beside.
We arrived separately from police.
Yes.
Police.
That was Ryan’s idea.
Not mine.
Character development.
Dominic had already contacted federal authorities because Luca’s threats crossed several jurisdictions.
Twenty years earlier, Ryan would have handled it privately.
Tonight he handed evidence to law enforcement.
No revenge.
No secret army.
No bodies disappearing.
The hardest victory Ryan ever won was against himself.
Before we entered the warehouse, he caught my hand.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“If something happens—”
“No speeches.”
“I love you.”
I looked at him.
“I know.”
He swallowed.
“I don’t deserve—”
“No.”
I squeezed his hand.
“We are not doing deserve tonight.”
Then I walked inside.
Sophia sat at a table.
Ethan beside her.
Neither tied.
Neither visibly injured.
Luca Bellandi stood near the windows.
Forty-something.
Elegant.
Expensive coat.
No gun visible.
Three men behind him.
I stopped twenty feet away.
Luca smiled.
“Claire Hale Moretti.”
“Luca Bellandi.”
“I expected Ryan.”
“He’s parking.”
Luca laughed.
Then Ryan entered behind me.
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