Chapter 9 - THE WEDDING GUEST WHO CAME EARLY
Senator Harlan entered Ravenwood like he owned it.
Maybe he believed he did.
Tony wanted to move us underground.
I said no.
Running would confirm weakness.
I sent Elena and Emma through the tunnel with two men I still trusted.
Vivien stayed.
Claire was locked in a storage room.
Then I walked into the drawing room alone.
Harlan stood by the fireplace.
Seventy-one.
White hair.
Navy suit.
American flag pin.
The face of a man people trusted on television.
“You look like your father,” he said.
“You don’t.”
He smiled.
“Still rude.”
“Still trespassing.”
“You invited me to your wedding.”
“It’s Thursday.”
“I came early.”
“So did I.”
His smile faded slightly.
He poured himself bourbon from my bar.
“Your father and I built extraordinary things.”
“My father built things. You hid behind committees.”
He chuckled.
“There’s the Moretti arrogance.”
“What do you want?”
“Sign tomorrow.”
“The amended agreement?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He sipped the bourbon.
“Then several unfortunate events become necessary.”
“Threatening me in my house?”
“No, Dominic. Explaining economics.”
I sat.
“Explain.”
“Elena Carter dies.”
My expression didn’t change.
“Then?”
“Her daughter enters state custody.”
I kept my voice even.
“Then?”
“Your brother is arrested for seven murders.”
“Which he didn’t commit.”
Harlan shrugged.
“Truth and conviction are cousins, not twins.”
“And Vivien?”
“She goes to prison for espionage, fraud, and conspiracy.”
I looked toward the door.
She was listening from the hall.
I knew it.
“And me?”
Harlan smiled.
“You survive.”
“That’s generous.”
“Barely.”
There it was.
I leaned back.
“You’re afraid of something in my safe.”
“Not your safe.”
“The blue folder.”
His eyes changed.
One millimeter.
Enough.
I smiled.
“Found it.”
Harlan’s jaw tightened.
“The folder contains account structures.”
“And?”
“Names.”
“Whose?”
He didn’t answer.
I stood.
“You know what I think?”
“Enlighten me.”
“I think my father kept insurance.”
Harlan stared at me.
“I think the blue folder isn’t the evidence. It’s the map.”
No answer.
“And I think everyone is killing each other because nobody knows where the real files are.”
A slow clap came from the doorway.
Luca stepped into the room.
Alive.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar ran from his temple to his jaw.
But unmistakably my brother.
Harlan turned.
Luca smiled.
“Miss me?”
I couldn’t move.
Seven years disappeared.
I wanted to hit him.
Hug him.
Maybe both.
Harlan said, “You were supposed to stay dead.”
Luca shrugged.
“Never been good at instructions.”
He tossed a brass key onto the table.
Number seventeen.
The same kind I found in my father’s coffin.
Harlan’s face changed completely.
For the first time, the senator looked afraid.
Luca looked at me.
“Dad left seventeen keys.”
“To what?”
“A vault.”
“Where?”
Luca smiled without humor.
May you like
“Under the church where you’re getting married.”
Then every window in the drawing room shattered at once.
