Chapter 20 — Everything Ive Built Depends on This #2
I made it out without a tail.
I drove downtown but didn’t go to the office. If the firm was being raided, I wouldn’t be able to get in. And if I did, I’d be arrested for obstruction.
I parked in a public lot three blocks from Sterling Plaza.
I walked to the corner and looked.
It was a crime scene. Yellow tape blocked the main entrance to the skyscraper. FBI agents streamed out carrying boxes of documents and computer towers. Journalists jostled on the sidewalk.
I saw the polished bronze sign at the entrance: MORETTI & HALE.
I felt a physical pain in my chest. That was my name up there. My father’s legacy, scrubbed clean and rebuilt with my blood and sweat. And now it was being dismantled, piece by piece, tossed into cardboard boxes like garbage.
Everything I’d built depended on that structure. The power. The influence. The ability to bend the world to my will.
Without the firm, I was just a man with a frozen bank account and a violent past.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered, expecting Miller, or Richard, or the devil himself.
“Gabriel?”
The voice was female. Cold. Elegant.
Lydia. My sister.
“Lydia,” I replied, surprised. We hadn’t spoken in months. She lived in Paris, far from the family “mud.”
“I’m watching the news on CNN International,” she said without preamble. “They’re tearing apart the office. They’re saying it’s money laundering for arms cartels. Is that true?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Don’t lawyer me, Gabriel. Is it true?”
“Richard was involved. The firm got contaminated.”
“And you?”
“I’m cleaning up the mess. As always.”
Lydia sighed.
“You always thought you could control chaos, brother. But chaos always wins.” She paused. “The family trust accounts have been frozen. I tried to use my card at a gallery today and it was declined.”
I closed my eyes. The reach was global.
“I’ll fix it, Lydia.”
“No, you won’t.” Her voice hardened. “Listen carefully. I got a call before I called you. From one of the minority partners. They’re calling an emergency board vote.”
“The board can’t vote without me. I hold the majority of shares with Richard out.”
“Not if you’re indicted or under active criminal investigation. There’s a morality clause in the bylaws, remember? The one Dad put in to keep us from destroying the company?”
The morality clause. The supreme irony.
“They’re going to vote to remove you, Gabriel. This afternoon. They’ll hand you over to the government as the scapegoat to try to save what’s left of the firm. They’ll say you knew everything and that Richard was acting under your orders.”
I felt the ground open up beneath me.
If the board removed me, I'd lose the firm's legal protection. I'd lose access to the defense files. I'd lose the ability to negotiate.
I'd be just another defendant.
“Who's leading the vote?” I asked, my voice cold.
“Simon Vance.”
Simon. The mediocre tax attorney I'd promoted last year. The man who smiled at me in the hallways.
“Thank you, Lydia.”
“Gabriel...” Her voice softened. “Get out of there. Come to Paris. We have money stashed in accounts Dad hid, accounts that aren't in the system. You can disappear.”
I looked up at the top of the building, at the floor where my office was being ransacked.
Disappear. Run. Start over.
It would be easy. I could grab Elena, grab the fake passports, and vanish.
But then I remembered her mother in Switzerland. I remembered Thomas in Arizona. I remembered the promise I'd made to Elena: “I'll protect you. From everything.”
If I ran, I'd lose the ability to keep that promise. Her mother would be discovered and arrested. Thomas would be found.
I couldn't run. I had to fight.
But to fight, I needed to sacrifice something.
“I'm not going to Paris, Lydia.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I'm going to do what Dad never had the courage to do. I'm going to burn my boats so there's no option to retreat.”
I hung up.
I looked at the building one last time.
Everything I'd built depended on Moretti & Hale. My identity. My strength.
But now I'd built something else. Something fragile, dangerous, and infinitely more valuable—waiting for me in the penthouse at Obsidian Tower.
To save Elena, I needed to save the firm. And to save the firm... I needed to make a deal with the only man who had the power to stop the FBI.
The devil himself.
I dialed Special Agent Miller's number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Mr. Moretti. I was expecting your call. I hear you're having a difficult day.”
“Let's skip the sarcasm, Miller. You want Vanguard. You want the trafficking network.”
“I want everything, Gabriel. I want Vanguard, I want Richard, and I want the head of the firm that facilitated all of this.”
“I can give you Vanguard. I can give you the names, the accounts, the complete logistics chain. I can hand you the entire network on a silver platter.”
“In exchange for what?”
I took a deep breath. The cold morning air filled my lungs, tasting like the end.
“In exchange for total immunity for the firm. Immediate unfreezing of assets. And dropping the investigation against me and anyone associated with my name.”
Miller laughed.
“You're bluffing. You don't have that data. Richard took everything or destroyed it.”
“Richard took what he thought was important. But I've been Vanguard's lawyer for five years, Miller. I have the archived files. I have the 'black book.' The real one. The one that shows who paid whom in Congress to let the drones clear customs.”
The silence on the other end of the line was heavy. Mentioning Congress changed the game. From common crime to political scandal.
“Where is this book?” Miller asked, all humor gone from his voice.
“It's safe. And if I'm arrested, or if my firm goes down... it gets automatically published to ten news outlets around the world.”
It was a lie. I didn't have the black book. I had fragments, suspicions, loose pieces.
But I was Gabriel Moretti. And my greatest skill was never the law.
It was the bluff.
“Meet me,” Miller said. “Alone. No weapons.”
“At my office. One hour. Have your goons clear out from in front of the building. I want to walk in through the front door.”
“Done.”
I hung up.
My hand was trembling.
I'd just bet my life on a pair of twos. If Miller discovered I didn't have the complete book... I'd be dead or in prison before nightfall.
But it was the only chance.
I returned to the car.
I needed to see Elena. I needed to look at her one more time before entering the lion's den. I needed to be certain that if I lost everything today… at least she would know I tried.
I sped back toward the Obsidian Tower.
Everything I had built was about to crumble.
But for the first time, I didn't care about the bricks. I only cared about who was inside the house.