Chapter 12 - THE MAN IN OUR HOUSE
There were three men upstairs.
One blocked the front door.
One stood near the kitchen.
The third came down the basement stairs.
I recognized him.
Richard Vale.
He smiled at me.
“You look so much like Michael when you’re angry.”
Luka raised his gun.
Vale stopped.
“Careful.”
He lifted one hand.
“If I don’t walk out, Dr. Reed dies.”
Luka’s face remained unreadable.
Vale looked at me.
“Elena.”
“You killed my father.”
His smile disappeared.
“No.”
“You sabotaged his plane.”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
He looked at Luka.
Luka’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
Vale smiled again.
“There are secrets even the Morettis prefer buried.”
I looked at Luka.
“What is he talking about?”
“Not now.”
Vale opened his hand.
“The sequences.”
“No.”
“Elena, those sequences represent twenty-six years of research.”
“They belong to me.”
“They belong to the company your father built.”
“My father said they belonged to no one.”
“Your father was sentimental.”
“And you’re a murderer.”
His eyes hardened.
“Michael’s death was not my decision.”
“Whose decision was it?”
Vale looked at Ryan.
My husband went pale.
I followed his gaze.
“No.”
Ryan shook his head.
“Elena.”
“What did your father do?”
Ryan swallowed.
“My father handled Helix Crown’s legal problems.”
“Did he order the crash?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said he kept files.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Ryan looked at Vale.
Vale said quietly.
“Be very careful.”
That was all the confirmation I needed.
Ryan pulled a small key from his pocket.
“My father had a private office in Manhattan.”
Vale moved.
Luka raised the gun higher.
“Don’t.”
Ryan continued.
“When he died, I inherited access.”
Vale’s face hardened.
“You foolish little bastard.”
I stared at Ryan.
“You’ve had evidence this whole time?”
“I had documents.”
“Did you read them?”
“Some.”
My anger became almost unbearable.
“And you still married me.”
His eyes filled.
“At first, yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I started because they paid me.”
“I stayed because I loved you.”
I turned away.
Vale laughed softly.
“Romantic.”
Luka’s voice changed.
“Enough.”
He nodded toward the sequences in my hand.
“Elena, put them in your coat.”
I did.
Vale’s men shifted.
Then every light in the house flashed bright white.
A deafening alarm erupted.
Luka smiled slightly.
Vale looked confused.
“What did you do?”
“I called the police before we entered.”
Luka said.
“Silent alarm.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Vale’s face transformed.
“You think police matter?”
“No.”
Luka stepped closer.
“But witnesses do.”
Vale looked at me.
“This doesn’t end tonight.”
“It ends when I decide it ends.”
I surprised myself with how steady my voice sounded.
Police entered.
Vale left without being arrested.
He had not broken anything.
He had not touched me.
His lawyers would frame the entire incident as a misunderstanding.
But he had made one mistake.
He had confirmed Ryan’s father had records.
We drove directly to Manhattan.
At 4:30 in the morning, Ryan opened his father’s private office.
Behind a framed photograph was a wall safe.
Inside were dozens of files.
Corporate payments.
Confidential settlements.
Flight manifests.
And one sealed envelope.
M.C. INCIDENT.
I opened it.
The first page documented my father’s final flight.
The second listed the maintenance crew.
The third showed a payment.
Five million dollars.
Authorized forty-eight hours before the crash.
The approving signature belonged to Richard Vale.
I looked at Luka.
“We have him.”
Luka did not answer.
He was staring at the final page.
A second authorization appeared beneath Vale’s.
May you like
ANTONIO MORETTI.
Luka’s father.
