Chapter 4 - A Bullet With My NameI had spent years telling myself that there were rules even criminals wouldn't break.
Never involve children.
Never target someone who couldn't defend himself.
Never confuse an innocent person's life with the price of doing business.
Those rules weren't laws. They were boundaries men like me invented to make the darkness feel organized.
Now my brother had crossed every one of them.
Vincent placed the photograph on the table.
"Silas is trying to provoke you."
"He's succeeding."
"That's what worries me."
I looked at the circled face.
"How did he obtain this?"
"Hospital cameras. Somebody inside the building sent him the footage."
"Find the person."
"We're tracing it."
"Vincent, stop tracing things and start finding people."
He nodded and left.
Across the room, Noah sat on the floor with Goliath, building a tower from wooden blocks one of my men had found in storage.
He had barely spoken since seeing the photograph.
Samuel stood beside him, arms crossed.
"How long are we staying here?" the boy asked.
"Until it's safe," I replied.
"How long is that?"
"I don't know."
"Can we go home?"
Samuel's expression tightened.
I hated him for asking because I hated the answer.
"Noah, the people hunting me know your face. Going home would put your grandfather in danger, too."
"So we just hide?"
"For now."
He pushed a block into place.
"What if we call the police?"
"The police can protect you from certain people."
"And you?"
I didn't answer.
He looked up.
"Then why don't you give them the bad people?"
The question was so straightforward that it felt like an accusation.
"Because my world doesn't work that way."
"Then your world is stupid."
Samuel made a strangled sound that might have been a cough.
I stared at Noah.
Then, against my better judgment, I laughed.
It was a short, rusty sound that surprised everyone in the room, including me.
The laughter disappeared when Vincent returned.
"We found the hospital insider."
"And?"
"Dead in his apartment. One gunshot. The killer took his phone and wiped the surveillance system."
"Silas?"
"Almost certainly."
Vincent hesitated.
"There's more. We recovered a vehicle abandoned near the property. The registration leads to a security company owned by Adrian."
I rose too quickly. Pain tore across my side.
Vincent caught my arm.
"Easy."
"How many men can you trust?"
"Six without hesitation. Maybe eight if I threaten the rest."
"Get the six."
"Where are we going?"
"To make a phone call."
I entered a secure room and dialed Adrian's private number.
He answered on the second ring.
"Luca."
His voice was gentle, almost affectionate.
"Brother."
A brief silence followed.
"I heard there was an incident," he said.
"Yes. Someone tried to kill me."
"Terrible."
"They're saying you had something to do with it."
"People say many things."
"I was buried beneath a mountain road, Adrian."
"I can't imagine."
That was the moment I knew.
My brother wasn't shocked. He wasn't confused. He was listening for signs that his investment had failed.
"You always were dramatic," he continued. "Perhaps someone finally decided to do something about it."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why bury me alive? You could have arranged a simple accident."
He sighed.
"You're making this emotional."
I stared at the phone.
For a quarter century, I had believed Adrian's weakness was cowardice. He preferred money to risk, influence to confrontation, and private arrangements to open violence.
I had mistaken cowardice for harmlessness.
"Tell me something," I said. "When Father died, did you know?"
Silence.
Three years earlier, our father had died in what the police called a boating accident. I had accepted the official report because I was consumed by a war with the Russo family.
Adrian had handled the funeral.
He'd also inherited our father's private investment accounts, which I had never questioned.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"Nothing yet."
"Luca, you're sick. You're frightened. You're hearing things."
"I'm not frightened."
"No," he replied softly. "You never were. That's your greatest flaw."
The call ended.
I stared at the dark screen.
Behind me, Vincent said, "You think he killed your father?"
"I think my brother has been lying to me for longer than I realized."
A notification appeared on the security monitor.
One of our perimeter cameras had captured a figure crawling beneath the fence.
Then another.
Then four more.
Vincent drew his weapon.
"Boss, we're being surrounded."
The estate's lights went out.
Gunfire shattered the windows.
I turned toward Noah.
He had frozen beside Goliath, wooden blocks scattered across the floor.
"Samuel, get him downstairs!"
The old man grabbed the boy and ran.
I fired toward the broken windows while Vincent shouted orders.
A bullet struck my shoulder, spinning me into the wall.
I tasted blood.
Outside, the attackers advanced through the snow.
I had survived being buried alive.
I had escaped a hospital ambush.
Now my brother had brought an army to the one place I believed secure.
And as the first explosion rocked the estate, I understood the truth.
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Adrian hadn't hired Silas simply to kill me.
He was prepared to burn an entire mountain to make certain nobody could tell the world what he had done.
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