Chapter 4
Alessio returned before dawn.
Gabriele Costa was already waiting.
Sixty-one.
Immaculate gray suit.
Silver hair.
The calm face of a man who had survived four bosses by never appearing surprised.
Tonight he looked surprised.
Not enough.
Alessio placed Helen’s burner phone on the table.
Gabriele’s eyes dropped toward it.
Then rose.
“Where did you find that?”
Helen answered before Alessio could.
“My bag.”
Gabriele’s jaw tightened.
The smallest reaction.
Alessio saw it.
“Why does she have a burner connected only to you?”
Gabriele sat slowly.
“Because she asked me to keep something private.”
Trent laughed from across the room.
His hands were restrained in front of him now.
“Here we go.”
Alessio looked at Gabriele.
“What?”
Gabriele’s eyes moved toward Sylvia.
Her shoulders stiffened.
“I was helping her.”
Helen turned sharply.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
Gabriele remained calm.
“You came to me six months ago.”
Helen’s hand tightened around her pearls.
“You said Trent’s behavior was getting worse.”
Sylvia stared at Helen.
The older woman’s breathing changed.
“You said you were afraid he would destroy his marriage and his position.”
Gabriele continued.
“You wanted me to intervene without Alessio knowing.”
Alessio looked at Helen.
“Why without me?”
Her answer came after a long pause.
“Because you would have removed Trent.”
“Yes.”
“You always remove people.”
The bitterness underneath the words had been waiting years.
Alessio said nothing.
Helen lifted her chin.
“I wanted my son corrected. Not erased.”
Sylvia’s eyes filled.
“You knew.”
Helen refused to look at her.
“You knew he was hurting me.”
“I knew he was losing control.”
“He broke my arm.”
Helen closed her eyes.
That silence was worse than denial.
Alessio turned toward Gabriele.
“What did you do?”
“I confronted Trent.”
“And?”
“He told me to stay out of his marriage.”
Trent smiled.
Gabriele finally looked at him.
The smile faded.
Gabriele continued.
“Then Helen asked me to stop pushing.”
Alessio stared at her.
“You protected him again.”
Helen’s voice hardened.
“He is my son.”
Sylvia whispered:
“And I was his wife.”
Nobody answered.
Alessio’s eyes returned to Gabriele.
“What does this have to do with Gate Nine?”
Gabriele shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“Your number is on a burner tied to Helen.”
“That doesn't make me part of Trent’s shipment.”
“Then explain the calls.”
Gabriele reached into his jacket slowly.
Bodyguards tensed.
He removed his phone.
Call records.
Helen had contacted him repeatedly over six months.
But three calls stood out.
Last night.
9:11.
9:34.
10:06.
Immediately before the Gate Nine operation.
Gabriele looked at Helen.
Her face changed.
“I didn't call you.”
He stared at the record.
“You did.”
“No.”
Her voice was suddenly less certain.
Trent watched them both.
Too calmly.
Alessio saw it.
“Who had your burner?”
Helen looked toward her son.
Trent’s expression did not change.
Her breath left slowly.
“He borrowed my handbag before dinner.”
Trent laughed.
“You’re blaming me now?”
Helen’s eyes remained on him.
“You said you needed my medication.”
Trent’s smile weakened.
Alessio looked at Gabriele.
“What happened during those calls?”
Gabriele hesitated.
Then:
“Nothing.”
Alessio’s gaze hardened.
Gabriele corrected himself.
“No one spoke.”
Three calls.
Silence.
Each lasting exactly twelve seconds.
Mateo entered from the hallway holding a report.
“Boss.”
Alessio looked up.
“We traced the call pings.”
Helen’s burner had never left the estate.
But Gabriele’s phone had.
At 10:06, it was at Gate Nine.
May you like
Every eye turned toward the consigliere.
Gabriele’s face finally lost color.
