Chapter 12 - We spent the next eighteen hours preparing.Not for a fight.
For a siege.
Dominic moved his remaining loyal people into hidden locations.
Daniel contacted former allies.
Vanessa disappeared for six hours and returned with a list of names.
My mother was moved to a secure hospital floor.
Nobody slept.
I trained.
For the first time in eight years, I walked into a gym willingly.
No audience.
No cameras.
No tournament.
Just me.
And the heavy bag.
I hit it once.
Then again.
My shoulder hurt.
My lungs burned.
My hands shook.
I kept going.
Dominic watched from the doorway.
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes.”
“You could leave the city.”
“No.”
“You could stay with your mother.”
“No.”
“You could let me handle it.”
I stopped.
“That's what people told me eight years ago.”
He didn't answer.
I tied my gloves tighter.
“I'm done letting other people fight my battles.”
Dominic stepped inside.
He held out a pair of old hand wraps.
I recognized them.
My father's.
“I found these in the Carter gym.”
I took them.
“Why did you keep them?”
“Daniel gave them to me.”
I looked at the wraps.
Then at Dominic.
“Was he really your friend?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He saved me.”
“From what?”
“Death.”
I looked away.
“You both owe each other.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
Dominic's voice was quiet.
“Now I owe you.”
The words stayed between us.
Then Vanessa entered.
“We found Michael.”
I turned.
“Where?”
“Your original delivery route.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“He's been following it.”
“Why?”
“To map your life.”
She handed me a photograph.
It showed my apartment building.
My mother.
My father's old gym.
And one more location.
A small bakery.
I recognized it.
The place where I had met my father for breakfast when I was seventeen.
Before his death.
Before everything.
“Why this place?”
Vanessa looked at Daniel's old records.
“Because your father hid something there.”
We went immediately.
The bakery had been closed for years.
Behind the kitchen was a locked room.
Inside:
Boxes.
Files.
Photographs.
And a map of Chicago covered in red marks.
Daniel had mapped every known location connected to The Crown.
At the center was one address.
Dominic's mansion.
But beneath it was another location.
A basement.
We looked at each other.
“There's no basement on the property plans,” Dominic said.
“There is,” I answered.
Everyone turned toward me.
“What?”
I remembered something.
Seven weeks ago, one delivery had been different.
Vanessa had made me use a side entrance.
I had noticed the floor sounded hollow.
She had told me the room below was under renovation.
It had never made sense.
Now it did.
“The mansion has a hidden level.”
We returned after midnight.
Security cameras were disabled.
The house was dark.
We entered through the kitchen.
I found the loose tile.
Lifted it.
A staircase descended into darkness.
At the bottom was a steel door.
Behind it were computers.
Servers.
Files.
Photographs.
The Crown's operation room.
Dominic walked toward the main monitor.
His face went white.
“What?”
He pointed.
A live feed showed my mother.
At the hospital.
Someone was standing beside her bed.
Michael.
Then another figure entered the frame.
Elias.
Impossible.
Dominic whispered:
“He's alive.”
The screen flickered.
Elias looked directly into the camera.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Dominic stepped forward.
Elias smiled.
“You have always misunderstood the structure of power.”
Then the camera turned.
A person entered the room.
I couldn't see the face.
Only the silhouette.
Elias bowed.
“Your Majesty.”
The figure stepped into the light.
I recognized her instantly.
My mother.
Not the woman in the hospital.
A different woman.
Older.
Colder.
Same face.
But there had never been two.
I looked at Dominic.
He stared at me.
The live feed continued.
The woman on screen smiled.
“You finally found me.”
My blood ran cold.
The woman turned toward the camera.
“My name is not Sarah Carter.”
She smiled.
“And Daniel Carter was never my husband.”
The screen went black.
Then the speakers came alive.
May you like
A single sentence.
“Welcome to the real family business.”
