“I do.”
She reached into her bag.
“I came because you need to see something else.”
She placed a photograph on the table.
Three men stood outside a warehouse.
One was Marco Vescari.
One was Ryan’s father, Anthony Moretti.
The third—
I stopped breathing.
My father.
Vincent Hale.
The date stamped on the photograph was seventeen years earlier.
“What is this?”
“I don’t know.”
Chloe looked frightened.
“But Daniel Cross sent it to Ryan yesterday.”
On the back was a handwritten sentence.
ASK VINCENT HALE WHICH MAN HE CHOSE TO SAVE.
I stared at my father’s younger face.
For the first time, Ryan’s secrets were not the only ones surrounding me.
I walked into my father’s office holding the photograph.
He looked at it.
Then at me.
And I watched Vincent Hale go pale.
“Where did you get this?”
“Chloe.”
“Claire—”
“No.”
I placed the photograph on his desk.
“Ryan has been deciding what I’m allowed to know for years.”
I looked my father directly in the eyes.
“You don’t get to do it too.”
Dad sat slowly.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
He looked at the photograph again.
Then said the sentence that changed the entire war.
“Marco Vescari wasn’t working for Ryan’s father.”
I waited.
Chap 3
Then he opened a safe I had seen a thousand times.
From it, he removed a thin red folder.
“Seventeen years ago, Hale Maritime was much smaller,” he began.
“I know.”
“No, Claire. You know the public history.”
He placed the folder down.
“You don’t know how close we came to losing everything.”
He explained that Hale Maritime had been targeted by a network using legitimate shipping companies to move stolen goods, launder money, and compromise port officials.
Daniel Cross had been my father’s executive vice president.
Trusted.
Brilliant.
Almost family.
And corrupt.
“Marco discovered Daniel was using Hale routes,” Dad said.
“How?”
“Because the Vescari organization was using some of the same ports.”
I stared.
“So Marco came to you.”
“Yes.”
“Why not the police?”
“Because half the people he needed investigated had friends in law enforcement.”
That sounded disturbingly familiar.
“What did Ryan’s father have to do with it?”
“Anthony Moretti controlled access to several unions and warehouses. Marco believed Anthony could help identify the rest of the network.”
“So the three of you worked together.”
“For six months.”
“And then?”
“Someone found out.”
Dad’s expression changed.
“Marco’s wife was killed.”
Chloe’s mother.
My anger vanished for a moment.
“Daniel?”
“We believed so.”
“And Marco disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Was he killed?”
Dad looked at me.
“No.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Marco Vescari is alive.”
I stared at my father.
“No.”
“He entered protective hiding seventeen years ago.”
“Ryan thinks he’s dead.”
“I know.”
“Chloe thinks he’s dead!”
“I know.”
I stepped away.
“How could you?”
“Because Marco asked me to.”
“For seventeen years?”
“Daniel Cross threatened Chloe. Marco believed she would only be safe if everyone thought he was dead.”
“That girl grew up without her father.”
“He chose her survival over her forgiveness.”
I shook my head.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“The last time I saw Marco was twelve years ago.”
“Then why has Daniel suddenly returned?”
Dad opened the red folder.
Inside were bank records.
Contracts.
Photographs.
“Because the network never disappeared.”
He pointed at several companies.
“They became legitimate.”
My eyes moved over the names.
One stood out.
NORTHSTAR GLOBAL TRANSPORT.
Ryan’s biggest competitor.
The company currently fighting the Morettis for the Denver expansion.
“Oh my God.”
Dad nodded.
“Daniel built a corporation from the criminal network.”
“And Ryan’s expansion threatens him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why target Chloe?”
“Because she may be able to identify people from her father’s old records.”
“And me?”
My father looked ashamed.
“Because you are the bridge between Hale and Moretti.”
I understood.
Our marriage had united two families whose cooperation had once nearly destroyed Daniel Cross.
“He wants Ryan and me separated.”
“Yes.”
“And you withdrawing the guarantee helped him.”
Dad looked down.
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“One photograph of Ryan and Chloe did what bullets couldn’t.”
“Claire.”
“Daniel understood exactly where to shoot.”
Not at Ryan.
Not at me.
At trust.
I called Ryan.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
I called his security chief, Dominic Russo.
“Where is Ryan?”
A pause.
“Mrs. Moretti—”
“Dominic.”
“He went to meet Cross.”
My blood turned cold.
“Where?”
“I’m not authorized—”
“I own twelve percent of the company that pays your salary.”
Silence.
Then:
“Warehouse district.”
I grabbed my coat.
My father blocked the door.
“You’re not going.”
“Watch me.”
“Claire.”
“If Daniel wants our families divided, then Ryan walking into that meeting without knowing Marco is alive is exactly what Daniel wants.”
“I’ll send men.”
“And Ryan will assume you’re attacking him.”
Dad stopped.
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