Chapter 12 - THE MAN WHO CREATED NOLAN
Nolan moved before anyone else.
He stepped in front of me.
The gun fired.
Nolan screamed.
He fell against the wall.
For one stunned second, I couldn't understand what had happened.
Nolan had taken a bullet meant for me.
His father stared at him.
"You idiot."
Nolan clutched his side.
"Nice to see you too."
Dante fired.
David ducked behind the doorway.
Enzo pulled Nolan to safety.
"Why?" I asked.
Nolan looked up at me.
"Don't make it sentimental."
Blood soaked through his shirt.
"You spent two years hurting me."
"I know."
"And now you save me?"
"I know."
I stared at him.
There was no apology large enough.
No redemption clean enough.
But there was shame in his face.
Real shame.
"I became him," Nolan whispered.
I knew he meant his father.
"I spent my whole life hating him."
His breathing became ragged.
"Then I became him anyway."
I knelt beside him.
"That explains you."
His eyes met mine.
"It doesn't excuse you."
A tear slipped from his eye.
"No."
That mattered.
Not enough.
But it mattered.
Dante appeared.
"We need to move."
Enzo lifted Nolan.
The tunnel groaned.
My father led us toward an old service exit.
"Thomas!" Matteo shouted. "Left!"
We turned.
David Carter appeared again.
This time my father tackled him.
They slammed into the wall.
"Dad!"
I ran toward them.
David punched Thomas across the face.
Then grabbed his gun.
I picked up a piece of broken pipe.
David aimed.
I swung.
The pipe struck his wrist.
The gun fell.
David hit me.
Hard.
I crashed onto the concrete.
My vision blurred.
He grabbed my hair.
"Your father ruined everything."
Then Nolan, barely standing, struck his father from behind with a wooden board.
David fell.
Nolan collapsed beside him.
"Guess we're even."
"We are absolutely not even."
He laughed.
Then coughed in pain.
Dante's men restrained David.
We made it out through the service tunnel seconds before part of Saint Agnes collapsed.
Cold rain hit my face.
Ambulances raced toward us.
Dante was bleeding.
Nolan was bleeding worse.
Matteo could barely walk.
My father had been returned to me after eleven years.
And Salvatore was gone.
Again.
As paramedics loaded Nolan onto a stretcher, he caught my sleeve.
"Claire."
I looked down.
"I'm sorry."
For once, there was no excuse afterward.
No "but you made me angry."
No "you know how I get."
Just:
"I'm sorry."
I stepped back.
"I hope you become someone who means that."
Then they took him away.
Dante sat in another ambulance while a medic bandaged his shoulder.
I approached.
"You okay?"
"I've had worse."
"Of course you have."
He looked at me.
"You?"
"I don't know yet."
"Good answer."
Then his phone rang.
Rosa.
Dante answered.
Her voice exploded through the speaker.
"Dante, don't come back to the estate!"
He stood.
"Why?"
"Police everywhere."
Detective Ellis came on the line.
"Dante, listen carefully."
"What happened?"
"The FBI just raided every Moretti property in Chicago."
Dante's face hardened.
"On whose warrant?"
Ellis hesitated.
"Evidence says you've been laundering money for Salvatore for twenty years."
"That's impossible."
"I know."
"Then who gave them the evidence?"
May you like
Ellis exhaled.
"Your brother Matteo."
