Chapter 22 - The Bullet Between Brothers
The gunshot exploded through the terminal.
Gabriel spun sideways.
I screamed.
Massimo moved instantly.
He crossed the distance between us before Dominic could fire again, smashing his forearm into Dominic’s wrist.
The gun flew across the concrete.
I dropped and crawled away.
Dominic swung his cane.
Massimo caught it.
The two men crashed into a steel railing.
Federal agents poured through the entrances.
“Down!”
“Hands!”
“Drop the weapon!”
Dominic had no weapon.
But he still had rage.
He drove his shoulder into Massimo.
For a seventy-year-old man, he moved with frightening strength.
Then Gabriel tackled him from behind.
All three fell.
Agents swarmed them.
Within seconds, Dominic Moretti was pinned to the ground.
Handcuffs closed around his wrists.
He looked at me.
Not Massimo.
Not Gabriel.
Me.
“You think this ends because I’m arrested?”
I stood.
Claire ran back inside and wrapped her arms around me.
Dominic smiled.
“Your father made the same mistake.”
An agent pulled him upright.
I stepped closer.
“My father died surrounded by people who loved him.”
Dominic’s smile faded.
“You’re going to die surrounded by attorneys billing by the hour.”
Claire made a choking sound that might have been laughter.
Massimo looked at me.
Even Gabriel smiled.
Then I remembered the gunshot.
“Gabriel!”
Blood covered his sleeve.
Paramedics rushed forward.
The bullet had grazed his upper arm.
Painful.
Not fatal.
For the first time, the impossible night began to feel survivable.
Until a federal prosecutor approached us.
“Mr. Romano?”
Massimo turned.
“We need to speak privately.”
The tone changed everything.
“What about?”
“Corporate evidence recovered from Dominic Moretti’s safe house.”
Gabriel frowned.
“What evidence?”
The prosecutor looked uncomfortable.
“Financial records indicating that several Romano subsidiaries continued transferring funds to Moretti-controlled entities after Massimo Romano assumed leadership.”
Massimo stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“We have signatures.”
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
My heart dropped.
The prosecutor continued.
“We also recovered correspondence suggesting Mr. Romano knew the Moretti equity claim existed before his marriage.”
I stepped forward.
“No.”
“Sophie,” Massimo said quietly.
“No. That’s fabricated.”
“Possibly,” the prosecutor replied. “But until we authenticate everything, we have procedures.”
Massimo’s expression hardened.
“What procedures?”
The answer came in the form of two agents approaching.
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
I stood between them and my husband.
“You cannot seriously believe he helped Dominic.”
“We are not making conclusions.”
“Then don’t put handcuffs on him.”
“Sophie.”
Massimo touched my shoulder.
I turned.
He looked calm.
Too calm.
“Let them do their job.”
“They’re arresting you.”
“They’re detaining me.”
“That is not better!”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“You threw an ice bucket at Salvatore Vitali. I’m fairly certain you can survive a few hours without me.”
Tears burned my eyes.
“This isn’t funny.”
“No.”
He leaned closer.
“But panicking won’t help.”
The agents waited.
Massimo kissed my forehead.
“Trust Rebecca.”
Our attorney.
“Trust Gabriel.”
I looked at him in disbelief.
Gabriel raised one eyebrow.
Massimo almost smiled.
“And trust yourself.”
Then he offered his wrists.
The cuffs closed.
Cameras were waiting outside.
Of course they were.
By two in the morning, footage of Massimo Romano being placed into a federal vehicle had spread everywhere.
ROMANO CEO DETAINED AFTER MORETTI ARREST.
BILLIONAIRE BUSINESSMAN LINKED TO SECRET TRANSFERS.
GREEN SHIPPING EMPIRE IN CRISIS.
I watched the coverage from the estate library.
Francesca cried silently.
Donna Caterina stared at the television with murderous calm.
Claire sat beside me.
Then Rebecca Shaw entered carrying three boxes.
She set them on the table.
“What are those?” I asked.
“Everything federal investigators seized from Dominic.”
“How did you get it?”
“Discovery access.”
She opened the first box.
“We have forty-eight hours before Moretti Capital asks the court to remove Massimo from operational control completely.”
I looked at thousands of pages.
“Then we have forty-eight hours to prove the signatures are fake.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“That’s the problem.”
She handed me one document.
I looked at Massimo’s signature.
Perfect.
May you like
Then Rebecca said the words I did not want to hear.
“The signatures are real.”
