Hazel wanted to scream.
Instead she became frighteningly calm.
“What do we do?”
Matteo looked at her.
He had Leo’s stuffed bear in one hand.
“I get him back.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have right now.”
Hazel stepped closer.
“You don’t leave me behind.”
“Hazel.”
“If you try, I will follow you.”
“This could get ugly.”
“My son is already in it.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“Our son.”
Hazel hated that the correction mattered.
It did.
Tobias entered from outside.
“No tracks worth following. They switched vehicles.”
Matteo handed him his phone.
“Pull traffic cameras. Gas stations. Toll routes.”
“We’re already doing it.”
“I want every airport within two hundred miles watched.”
Hazel stared.
“You think they’ll fly him out?”
“No. Victor likes people frightened before he makes demands.”
“You keep talking about him like he’s alive.”
Matteo looked at her.
“Because now I think he is.”
Marlene refused an ambulance until Hazel promised she would leave.
“You go get that boy.”
Hazel hugged her.
“I’m sorry.”
Marlene caught her face between both hands.
“Don’t waste time apologizing for evil people.”
Twenty minutes later, Hazel sat in the rear seat of Matteo’s SUV.
Snow streaked across the windows.
Tobias drove.
Matteo sat beside Hazel.
Neither touched.
Hazel looked at him.
“Tell me everything.”
Matteo remained silent too long.
“Everything,” Hazel repeated.
He finally spoke.
“Victor wanted the Lombardi organization.”
“I thought you inherited it.”
“I did. My father left it to me because Victor was unstable.”
“You mean violent?”
“Yes.”
“More violent than you?”
Matteo flinched slightly.
“Much.”
Hazel believed him.
“My father died when I was twenty-nine,” Matteo continued. “Victor expected me to hand over control.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“So he started trying to weaken you.”
“For years.”
“And Caleb?”
“Victor found his gambling debt. He offered to clear it in exchange for access.”
“Caleb agreed?”
“At first.”
Hazel closed her eyes.
Of course he had.
Caleb always believed the next terrible decision would somehow fix the previous one.
“But he changed his mind,” Matteo said.
Hazel looked over.
“How do you know?”
“Because the information he gave Victor was false.”
She stared.
“He warned you?”
“Indirectly. He planted details only I would recognize as bait.”
Hazel’s throat tightened.
“So he was trying to help.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I didn’t know it when I threw you out.”
Hazel looked toward the snowy road.
Matteo continued.
“When Tobias took Caleb to the docks, Caleb finally told us everything. I realized Victor had orchestrated the theft.”
“And you protected Caleb.”
“Yes.”
“Because of me?”
Matteo looked at her.
“Yes.”
Hazel laughed quietly.
“This would be easier if you were just a monster.”
Matteo almost smiled.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know.”
Hazel studied him.
“Why did you never tell me Victor might still be alive?”
“I thought he was dead.”
“But no body.”
“The car went off a mountain road. Burned for hours.”
“And you accepted that?”
“I wanted to.”
That answer sounded more human than she expected.
Matteo looked toward the windshield.
“I was tired.”
Hazel had never heard him admit weakness that simply.
“Tired of what?”
“Checking doors.”
His voice lowered.
“Checking cars. Checking faces in restaurants. Wondering which employee had been bought. Wondering which woman I cared about might disappear because someone wanted to punish me.”
Hazel knew who he meant.
She looked away.
“When Victor died,” Matteo said, “I let myself believe something had ended.”
“Maybe he wanted you to.”
“Yes.”
Tobias’s phone buzzed.
He checked the screen.
“I have a vehicle.”
Matteo leaned forward.
“Where?”
“Camera caught a dark Tahoe leaving Marlene’s road. Plate is stolen. It headed north.”
“North where?”
“Route 1.”
Hazel’s stomach tightened.
Coastal Maine offered a thousand places to disappear.
Old warehouses.
Fishing towns.
Empty summer properties.
Matteo’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered immediately.
“Put him on.”
The distorted voice laughed.
“Still impatient.”
Hazel grabbed Matteo’s sleeve.
“Leo.”
Matteo’s hand covered hers.
“He’s five.”
“So?”
“If you hurt him—”
“You’ll do what? Send Chicago to Maine?”
Matteo’s eyes went dead.
“I’ll erase every trace you ever existed.”
A pause.
Then Victor’s real voice emerged.
Older.
Raspy.
But recognizable.
“Still dramatic, nephew.”
Hazel went cold.
Victor.
Alive.
Matteo’s grip tightened around the phone.
“What do you want?”
“What I wanted five years ago.”
“The organization.”
“No.”
Hazel stared at Matteo.
He didn’t hesitate.
Victor chuckled.
“Then the boy goes somewhere you’ll never find.”
Hazel grabbed the phone.
“You listen to me.”
Matteo tried to stop her.
Too late.
“Victor?”
Silence.
Then, “Hazel.”
“You remember me?”
“Very well.”
“You gave me a cookbook.”
Victor laughed.
“You made excellent sauce.”
“My son is not part of your family war.”
“He became part of it the moment Matteo made him.”
Hazel’s stomach twisted.
“No. That is what men like you tell yourselves so you don’t have to admit you choose innocent targets.”
Matteo looked at her.
Victor became quiet.
Hazel continued.
“You wanted Matteo’s empire five years ago. You still want it. Fine. Deal with him.”
“Hazel—” Matteo warned.
She ignored him.
“But if you hurt Leo, you lose the only leverage you have.”
Victor laughed softly.
“You learned.”
“I survived.”
Another pause.
Then Victor said, “Ask Matteo what else he lied about.”
The line went dead.
Hazel slowly lowered the phone.
Matteo looked at Tobias.
Tobias looked away.
Hazel felt fury rise again.
“No.”
“Hazel.”
“No more secrets.”
Matteo sighed.
“Victor had another reason for wanting you gone.”
“What?”
“He believed you had something.”
“I had nothing.”
“You had access to my father’s kitchen.”
Hazel stared.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“My father kept records.”
“Business records?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“We never found them.”
Hazel remembered Matteo’s father only vaguely.
August Lombardi had been ill when Hazel started at the estate.
She cooked soups for him.
Soft breads.
Simple pasta.
He had liked her because she never acted frightened.
“Your father gave me a recipe notebook.”
Matteo’s head turned.
“What?”
“A black notebook.”
Tobias nearly swerved.
Hazel frowned.
“What?”
“When?”
“Two weeks before he died.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I packed it.”
Matteo stared at her.
“The night you left?”
“No. I left everything.”
His face changed.
Hazel suddenly remembered the cookbook shelf in the servants’ kitchen.
She had placed August’s notebook there after copying two recipes.
“If Victor was looking for it…”
“He thought you knew where it was,” Matteo said.
“That’s why he targeted me?”
“Yes.”
“So your entire performance that night was also about making him think I had been discarded before he could interrogate me.”
“Yes.”
Hazel pressed a hand to her forehead.
“God.”
Tobias spoke.
“The notebook could contain ledgers. Names. Payments. Evidence enough to bury Victor’s network.”
Hazel looked at Matteo.
“And it’s still at your estate?”
“We searched everything after my father died.”
“Not everything.”
Matteo frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Hazel remembered.
August had once told her never to store important recipes where cooks looked first.
“Flour,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The old flour bins.”
Matteo stared.
“In the lower pantry, there were antique metal flour bins nobody used because the lids didn’t seal.”
Tobias looked at Matteo.
Matteo immediately understood.
“Call Chicago.”
Hazel grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
He looked at her.
“If Victor knows about the notebook, he may be watching the estate.”
“Probably.”
“Then touching it tells him we know.”
Matteo studied Hazel for a second.
Then smiled faintly.
“You always were smarter than my men.”
Tobias muttered, “I heard that.”
Hazel ignored both.
“Can we use it?”
Matteo’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“To draw him out?”
“Yes.”
“Possibly.”
Tobias’s phone buzzed again.
He read the message.
“We found the Tahoe.”
Hazel’s breath caught.
“Where?”
“Abandoned near an old cannery outside Rockport.”
Matteo leaned forward.
“Any cameras?”
“None.”
Hazel looked out at the storm.
“Then that’s where he wants us.”
“Yes,” Matteo said.
Hazel turned to him.
“And we’re going?”
Matteo’s expression hardened.
“Yes.”
The cannery stood beside dark water.
Rusting metal.
Broken windows.
Snow blowing across the empty parking lot.
Matteo’s men spread out quietly.
Hazel remained beside him despite every order he gave her to stay behind.
Inside, the building smelled of salt and cold steel.
“Leo!” Hazel shouted.
Her voice echoed.
Nothing.
Then a child cried.
Hazel ran.
Matteo caught her.
“Wait.”
“That’s him.”
“I know.”
They moved toward an office at the far end.
The door stood open.
Leo sat in a chair.
Unhurt.
A man stood behind him.
Not Victor.
Caleb.
Hazel stopped.
Her entire world narrowed to her brother’s face.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar near his temple.
But alive.
Caleb stared at her as though seeing the dead.
“Hazel?”
Her knees almost gave out.
“Caleb.”
He stepped toward her.
Matteo raised his weapon.
Hazel shoved his arm down.
“What are you doing?”
Matteo’s eyes were fixed on Caleb.
“He brought Leo here.”
Hazel looked at her brother.
Caleb’s face twisted.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
Leo ran toward Hazel.
She dropped to the floor and caught him.
“Mom!”
She held him so tightly he squeaked.
“I’m okay,” Leo said.
Hazel kissed his hair over and over.
Matteo crouched beside them.
Leo looked at him.
“That man said he’s my uncle.”
Hazel lifted her head.
Caleb stood across the room.
Tears filled his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Then a red laser dot appeared on Caleb’s chest.
Matteo saw it first.
“DOWN!”
Gunfire shattered the windows.
Everyone hit the floor.
And from somewhere outside, Victor Lombardi’s voice boomed through a loudspeaker.
“Family reunion’s over.”
---