Chapter 6
The jacket was in Daniel’s memorial suite.
Victoria found the list sewn beneath the inner lining.
Clara had not removed it.
Smart.
Eight names.
Children.
Ages two to eleven.
Beside each name, one adult capo.
Father.
Mother.
Grandparent.
Pressure points.
Victoria stared at the page.
Anthony Bellacorte — daughter, 6.
Samuel Voss — grandson, 4.
David Moretti — twins, 8.
Noah Reed appeared at the bottom.
No capo connected.
Just Clara.
Beside him:
WITNESS.
Victoria’s jaw tightened.
Helena entered.
“No need to look so horrified.”
Victoria turned.
“What is this?”
“Insurance.”
There it was.
The family word for cruelty.
“You listed children.”
“We listed what men care about.”
“They’re children.”
“And?”
Victoria stared.
Helena continued.
“You think organizations survive because everyone behaves nobly?”
“No.”
“Then grow up.”
Victoria held up the list.
“You planned to threaten them.”
Helena laughed.
“Threaten?”
She pointed toward Noah’s name.
“Did anyone cut his throat?”
“No.”
“Did Clara starve?”
“She had no water for hours.”
Helena shrugged.
“Still alive.”
Every sentence reduced suffering until it fit inside Helena’s conscience.
Victoria stepped closer.
“What was supposed to happen tonight?”
Helena’s expression hardened.
“You step aside.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Men reconsider loyalty.”
“With their children in your reach.”
“With their families protected.”
Victoria almost smiled.
“Protected by whom?”
“Us.”
“You created the danger.”
“We control the danger.”
Exactly.
Marcus entered behind her.
“The anniversary is symbolic.”
Victoria looked at him.
“For Daniel?”
He laughed.
“No.”
The contempt hurt more than expected.
“For you.”
Helena smiled.
“Eleven months pretending the organization still follows Daniel’s widow.”
Victoria said nothing.
Marcus continued.
“Tonight ends it.”
“How?”
He looked toward Daniel’s portrait.
Then the brass key.
Victoria noticed.
“The key opens something else.”
Silence.
She lifted Clara’s key.
Two nearly identical keys.
One from behind the portrait.
One from Daniel’s jacket.
Different teeth.
Different locks.
Helena stepped forward.
“Give me that.”
Victoria smiled.
“No.”
For the first time, Helena lost control.
“Give me the damn key.”
Noah startled in the doorway.
Victoria looked at him.
Then back at Helena.
“You mocked a child ten minutes ago for carrying linens.”
Pause.
“Now you’re shouting because his mother found a piece of brass.”
May you like
Helena’s face went white.
Which meant the second key was the one that mattered most.
