CHAPTER 72 — THE TRAITOR

CHAPTER 72 — THE TRAITOR
DONOVAN’S POV

We left the council building in complete silence. Violet sat in the back of the car, staring at the lock of hair in her hand.
My brothers and I sat up front, each lost in our own thoughts, all of us trying to wrap our heads around the fact that Marco Moretti Sr. was alive.

“Father’s lying about something,” Damien said suddenly, breaking the quiet that had been stretching on forever. 
“He knows more than he’s telling us. I saw it in his eyes.”

“Of course he is,” Alistair said, running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was stressed. 
“He always does. But right now, we need to focus on finding Laura and Eleanor.”

I glanced back at Violet. She hadn’t said a word since we left the office, not one single word. 
Every time I tried to reach for her hand, she’d pull away like I’d burned her. I couldn’t blame her, my family had hurt hers more than anyone could ever imagine.

“Where do we even start?” I asked, looking out at the city passing by.

“With the people who knew Marco Moretti Sr. best,” Damien said. “We’ll go through every old file and contact from back then. Someone has to know where he’s hiding.”

We pulled up to the main house and found Rosa waiting at the door. Her face was pale and she was holding a small wooden box. 

“I need to show you something,” she said before we could even get out of the car. She sounded like she’d been holding her breath for hours.

She led us to the library, closing the doors behind us Then she opened the box and pulled out a stack of old photographs and letters that are yellowed with age, some of them folded so many times they were almost falling apart.

“I’ve known about Marco Moretti Sr. being alive for years,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the photos in her hands. “Your grandfather told me. Made me promise to keep it secret. Said it was the only way to protect the family.”

“Protect us or protect his power?” Alistair said sharply, he’d never been good at hiding how he felt about all the family secrets.

“Both,” she said, looking down at the photos like she couldn’t bear to meet our eyes. 
“He made a deal with Marco that if Marco stayed hidden, the Einsteins would take care of his family. But Marco Jr. never knew. He thought his father was dead, so he started planning his revenge against us.”

“So Chloe’s been working for someone who’s not even dead?” Damien said, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it.
“That’s twisted even by our standards.”

“There’s more,” Rosa said, pulling out a letter.
“Your grandfather didn’t just make a deal with Marco. He made a deal with Violet’s grandfather too. Eleanor wasn’t locked up as a prisoner and she was in hiding. For her own safety.”

Violet looked up so fast I thought she might get whiplash. “What?”

“Marco Sr. found out she knew about the deal all those years ago,” Rosa said, turning to face her. 
“He threatened to kill her if she ever told anyone what really happened the night of the fire. So your grandfather and Donovan’s grandfather made a plan that they’d hide her away until it was safe. Your father knew, but he thought it was better if you believed she left. He didn’t want you caught up in any of this danger.”

Everything we’d thought we knew was backwards and turned completely upside down. My family hadn’t been holding her prisoner, they’d been protecting her and Marco Sr. had been pulling strings from the shadows for years, letting everyone think he was dead so he could build his power back up and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

“But why now?” I asked. “Why reveal himself after all this time?”

“Because he thinks the Einsteins have become weak,” Rosa said, closing the box gently. 
“With your Father stepping down and with you fighting among yourselves over who’ll take over next, he thinks it’s the perfect time to take back what he thinks is his.”

Just then, my phone rang. Unknown number. I answered it and put it on speaker so we could all hear.

“Did you get my message?” Marco Sr.’s voice was rough. 

“We got it,” I said, gripping the phone so tight my knuckles hurt. 
“Let them go.”

“Not until I get what’s mine,” he said, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice.
“The Gray Circle belongs to the Morettis. Your family stole it from us. Give it back, and they live. Refuse, and you’ll find each pieces of them in the river every morning until you agree.”
The line went dead. 
My phone rang again. "It's Dad calling." I said to no one in particular.

“I’ll meet him at the bridge at midnight,” he said, his voice sounding over the phone. 
“But I’m not handing over the Gray Circle, it's belongs to this family and it always will.”

Damien stepped forward, his jaw tight. “But you told him you’d come alone and surrender everything.”

“Marco Moretti thinks he’s playing chess,” Father continued over the phone.
“But he doesn’t even know the rules of the game. When a lion pretends to be wounded, it’s not because it’s weak it’s because it’s waiting to strike.”

Alistair frowned. “So the call was just a setup? What about Eleanor and whoever else he’s holding?”

Father didn't say anything for a second and then asked. "Is Violet there? And is the phone on speaker?" 
"Yes." I answered.
“Your mother is safe. Marco didn’t take her, she went to him voluntarily.”

Violet stood up so fast her chair toppled over with a loud crash. “Voluntarily? years of being hidden away?”

“Your grandfather made a deal with Marco Sr. all those years ago,” Father explained. 
“If anything ever threatened the balance of power in the city, Eleanor would act as a liaison between our families. She’s been waiting for this moment her whole life, so she's not a prisoner”
He ended the call.
Everything we’d assumed about her disappearance had been wrong.

“We still go to the bridge,” I said.

“Agreed,” Damien said, cracking his knuckles. “Marco thinks he has the upper hand. Let’s show him how wrong he is.”

As night fell over Milan, we drove to the old bridge. Father in his car up front with us following in two vehicles behind him. The river below was dark and still, the city lights reflecting off the water. 

Father walked to the center of the bridge first, hands in his pockets like he was out for a casual evening stroll. We stayed back, hidden behind stone pillars but close enough to move fast if we needed to.
Damien’s men were positioned all along the riverbank, hidden in the shadows.

Marco Moretti Sr. stood waiting, flanked by six men in dark suits. He looked older than his photos suggested, his face scarred from the fire everyone thought had killed him. 

“Einstein,” he called out. “You came alone. I’m surprised you kept your word.”

“Unlike you, I always keep my promises,” Father said, stopping ten feet from him, close enough to talk, but far enough to react if things went bad.
“But I see you didn’t bring my ‘hostages.’”

Marco laughed. “Hostages? Eleanor Lancaster is inside that warehouse across the river, making her own choices. She’s not a prisoner, she’s my partner. Just like your own father was supposed to be before he betrayed me.”

That’s when the unexpected twist hit us all like lightning out of a clear sky.

The warehouse doors across the river swung open with a loud creak and standing across the river, staring at us was Eleanor.