Chapter 5 - THE NAME SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO KNOW
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Naomi forgot the gun pointed at her.
She forgot the warehouse.
Forgot Mateo.
Forgot the eight men surrounding Lorenzo.
All she saw was the name printed across the paper.
Naomi DeLuca.
“No.”
Her voice barely carried.
Mateo smiled.
“Oh, yes.”
Lorenzo remained completely still.
“Don’t listen to him.”
Naomi snapped her head toward him.
“You know something.”
“Naomi—”
“You know something.”
Mateo laughed.
“Look at his face.”
Lorenzo turned toward Mateo.
“If you’re trying to use her—”
“Use her?”
Mateo stepped closer.
“I’m the only person in this room telling her the truth.”
He picked up the document.
“Giovanni DeLuca created a holding company nineteen years ago. Forty-one percent of the family’s legitimate assets were placed into a trust.”
Lorenzo knew that.
He had spent years trying to identify the beneficiary.
His father had refused to discuss it before dying.
Mateo continued.
“The beneficiary was Celeste Blake.”
Naomi stopped breathing.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Your mother worked for Lorenzo’s father.”
Naomi looked at Lorenzo.
He did not deny it.
Mateo’s smile widened.
“She didn’t clean his office, sweetheart.”
Lorenzo moved so quickly that Shaw’s men raised their guns.
“Finish that sentence,” Lorenzo said, “and you lose your teeth.”
Mateo laughed.
“That bothers you?”
Naomi shouted.
“Everybody shut up!”
The warehouse became silent.
Her eyes found Lorenzo.
“What was my mother to your father?”
Lorenzo took a slow breath.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
He looked at the paper.
“I knew her name. That’s all.”
“Why?”
“Because I found it in his private files after he died.”
Naomi stared.
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
“And you never looked for me?”
“I didn’t know you existed.”
Mateo tilted his head.
“That part might actually be true.”
Naomi looked toward him.
“Then why does that say Naomi DeLuca?”
Mateo placed the trust document down.
“Because when Celeste died, ownership passed to her eldest daughter.”
Naomi shook her head.
“My surname is Blake.”
“Legally, yes.”
Mateo pointed to another file.
“But your mother was born Celeste DeLuca.”
Lorenzo’s face hardened.
“That’s a lie.”
Mateo slid the birth certificate across the table.
Lorenzo picked it up.
Celeste Maria DeLuca.
Born in Naples.
Father: Antonio DeLuca.
Mother: Francesca Esposito.
Lorenzo stared.
Antonio DeLuca had been his father’s older brother.
A man Lorenzo had been told died childless.
Naomi was not Lorenzo’s sister.
She was his cousin.
And she owned almost half of the legitimate empire.
Shaw swore softly.
Even he had not understood the entire plan.
Mateo looked delighted.
“Now you see why she mattered.”
Naomi felt sick.
“My mother never talked about Italy.”
“Because she ran from it,” Mateo replied. “Giovanni found her years later in London and tried to make things right.”
Lorenzo placed the birth certificate down.
“And you discovered the trust.”
“Two years ago.”
“That’s when you started moving money.”
Mateo nodded.
“You always were quick.”
Naomi finally understood.
“You paid me to watch Lorenzo because you wanted to know if he’d discovered who I was.”
“Yes.”
“And when you realized he hadn’t?”
“I had time.”
“To do what?”
Mateo smiled.
“Prepare.”
Lorenzo looked at the transfer papers.
“You can’t transfer her interest without her signature.”
“Exactly.”
Mateo raised the gun again.
“So she signs.”
Lorenzo stared at him.
“No.”
Mateo fired.
The gunshot exploded through the warehouse.
The bullet struck the floor beside Naomi’s foot.
She screamed.
Lorenzo moved instinctively.
Every gun in the room lifted.
“Next one goes higher,” Mateo said.
Lorenzo’s eyes became black.
“Naomi.”
She looked at him.
“Don’t sign anything.”
Mateo laughed.
“You’re willing to let her die for money?”
“No.”
Lorenzo slowly turned toward Shaw.
“I’m betting Shaw isn’t.”
The smile left Shaw’s face.
Mateo frowned.
Lorenzo continued.
“If Naomi dies, the trust goes to her next legal heir.”
Naomi whispered, “Amaya.”
Lorenzo nodded.
“And Amaya is currently somewhere Mateo cannot reach.”
Shaw looked at Mateo.
“You told me signing tonight finished this.”
“It does.”
“Not if you shoot her.”
Mateo’s plan was cracking.
Lorenzo saw it.
He stepped closer.
“You promised Shaw forty-one percent. You promised yourself my fifty-nine.”
Mateo said nothing.
“You made the mistake greedy men always make.”
“What mistake?”
“You promised the same empire to two people.”
Shaw’s men slowly shifted.
Not toward Lorenzo.
Toward Mateo.
Mateo realized it.
“You think he’s helping you, Shaw?”
Shaw answered calmly.
“I think you left out relevant information.”
Mateo reached inside his jacket.
Lorenzo shouted.
Gunfire erupted.
Naomi dropped to the floor.
Shaw’s men scattered.
Lorenzo crossed the warehouse through smoke and noise.
Mateo disappeared behind cargo.
Naomi pulled desperately at the handcuff.
Then somebody grabbed her.
She screamed.
“Easy.”
Carlo.
He cut the cuff with bolt cutters.
“How did you get in?”
“Boss had men in a container forty minutes before he arrived.”
Naomi nearly laughed from shock.
Of course he did.
Another gunshot cracked.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
Naomi stood.
“Where’s Lorenzo?”
Carlo looked toward the far loading doors.
Naomi ran.
Outside, rain covered the dock in silver.
Mateo stood twenty feet away with a gun.
Lorenzo faced him.
Neither man fired.
Twenty-five years stood between them.
Prison.
Money.
Blood.
Birthdays.
Funerals.
Brotherhood.
Mateo’s hand shook.
“You should’ve let me have it.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“You could’ve asked.”
Mateo laughed bitterly.
“You would’ve said no.”
“I would’ve given you half.”
Mateo’s expression collapsed.
For one terrible second, he looked less like a criminal mastermind and more like a boy discovering his jealousy had destroyed the only person who truly loved him.
Then his eyes found Naomi.
And hardened.
“If I can’t have it—”
His gun swung toward her.
Lorenzo fired.
Mateo fell.
The sound echoed across the Thames.
Naomi froze.
Lorenzo stared at the body of the man who had been his brother for twenty-five years.
His gun slipped slowly toward his side.
No one spoke.
Then Mateo moved.
His bloody hand reached beneath his jacket.
Carlo raised his weapon.
“Boss!”
But Mateo was not reaching for a gun.
He pulled out a phone.
Pressed one button.
And smiled through blood.
“You still think this was about the money?”
Across the dock, a cargo container exploded.
The shockwave threw Naomi backward.
Lorenzo hit the ground.
Flames climbed into the night.
Mateo laughed once.
Then went still.
Lorenzo struggled upright.
His ears rang.
Naomi crawled toward him.
“What did he do?”
Lorenzo stared at the burning container.
Then his phone began ringing.
Sophia.
He answered.
She was screaming.
“Lorenzo, they found us.”
His blood went cold.
“Who?”
May you like
A gunshot sounded through the phone.
Then the call disconnected.
