Chapter 4 - Inside the Vault
I stepped through the threshold first, lifting the tactical flashlight high.
The space beyond was not a wine cellar. It was a reinforced concrete bunker divided into small, windowless holding cells, likely built during the Cold War paranoia of the previous century and repurposed for something much darker. Racks of fine vintage wine still lined the outer corridor, but behind iron-barred partitions, the reality of the room was laid bare.
There was a narrow cot, a plastic bucket, and a pool of dark liquid on the concrete floor.
And huddled in the far corner of the primary cell, half-conscious and shivering violently, was Mia Carter.
“Mia!” I shouted, rushing forward and grabbing the iron bars.
She raised her head slowly, her face bruised, her lips cracked and bleeding, her housekeeper’s uniform torn and filthy. When the flashlight beam hit her eyes, she flinched, gasping for breath.
“Mr... Mr. Moretti...?” she croaked, her voice barely a whisper. “You... you came home...”
“Dante, cut these bars! Now!” I roared, grabbing the vertical iron rods with my bare hands, throwing my weight against them.
Dante was already working with a heavy hydraulic bolt-cutter he had retrieved from the utility corridor. With a loud snap of straining metal, the lock mechanism shattered, and the iron gate swung inward.
I dropped to my knees beside Mia, gently lifting her upper body. She was freezing cold, her skin burning with fever.
“Who did this to you, Mia?” I asked, keeping my voice as steady as I could, though the blood in my veins felt like liquid nitrogen. “Was it Victoria?”
Mia’s hand trembled as she reached out, her fingers catching weakly at the lapel of my coat—the exact same gesture Harper had used on the steps an hour ago.
“Not... not just Miss Victoria,” Mia whispered, tears cutting clean tracks through the dirt and dried blood on her cheeks. She coughed, a terrible, rattling sound. “It was... Mr. Romano. They... they caught me cleaning the study late Tuesday night. I... I accidentally swept behind the wall safe. I saw the flash drives. I saw the documents... transferring Moretti shipping assets to a shell company in Zurich.”
My heart stopped beating.
The Zurich shell company. For the past six months, millions of dollars in untracked revenue from our European ports had been leaking out. I had blamed rival syndicates. I had blamed Italian inspectors.
It was Victor. My brother was bleeding out my empire behind my back.
“And Victoria?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm.
May you like
“She... she helps him,” Mia wept, closing her eyes. “She told me... she told me if I kept my mouth shut, they’d send me away with enough money to raise Harper in safety. But when I told them I wouldn't leave my daughter... they locked me down here. They said... they said when you came home from Sicily, they’d pin the embezzlement on me and make me disappear for good.”
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