Chapter 4 - The Viper in the Vault
By four in the morning, the rain had cleared, leaving the city beneath a veil of freezing mist.
Madeline had been given a luxurious guest suite on the top floor of the penthouse complex. She wore a pair of comfortable silk pajamas that Gabriel’s staff had quietly provided, but sleep was an impossible luxury. She sat on the edge of the plush king-sized bed, staring down at the emerald ring on her finger.
The door to the suite clicked softly, and Gabriel walked in. He had changed out of his blood-stained trousers into a dark charcoal sweater and slacks. He carried a silver tray with hot tea, toast, and a thick tablet.
“You should be resting,” he said gently, setting the tray on the nightstand beside her.
“I can’t sleep,” Madeline replied quietly. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Nathan hiding in some dark motel, thinking he’s saving my life.”
Gabriel sat in the armchair opposite her bed, setting the tablet on his knee. “I’ve already deployed forty operatives across the Midwest. We traced the forged passports Nathan purchased. They were issued under the names David and Sarah Miller through a dirty broker in Milwaukee. He hasn't left the country yet.”
Madeline let out a shaky breath. “Thank God.”
“Now,” Gabriel said, tapping the screen of the tablet, “I need your help. You are an intelligent woman, Madeline. You’ve managed your brother’s books and your own household since your mother died. I need you to look at these internal logs.”
He handed her the tablet. Displayed on the screen were dozens of encrypted transaction files from the South Side transit accounts—the very ledger Nathan had worked on.
Madeline slid her fingers across the glass, her natural sharp intellect taking over her fear. As a child, while other girls played with dolls, Madeline had helped her mother organize receipts and file tax forms. Later, she had spent hours trying to fix Nathan’s chaotic personal finances. She knew how numbers moved.
“Look here,” Madeline pointed to a column of figures dated two months ago. “This isn't an accounting error, Gabriel. Nathan didn't transfer three hundred twelve thousand dollars in one lump sum.”
Gabriel leaned forward, his storm-gray eyes sharp. “Explain.”
“These numbers were moved in smaller batches—twenty thousand here, fifteen thousand there—over a six-month period,” Madeline said, her eyes racing down the screen. “Nathan didn't steal this money. He discovered that someone else was stealing it! Look at the authorization stamps. The clearing codes don't belong to a mid-level accountant. They belong to a senior executive with master clearance.”
Gabriel’s face went rigid. “Dominic’s uncle. Uncle Matteo.”
Madeline looked up at him. “Who is Matteo?”
“Matteo Costello,” Gabriel explained coldly. “My father’s younger brother. He serves as the Treasurer of our family’s legal holdings. He has been complaining for two years that my modernization of our financial systems was cutting into traditional revenues.”
Gabriel stood up, walking toward the window as the first light of dawn painted the Chicago skyline in shades of bruised purple and gold.
“Matteo was siphoning funds from the transit accounts to finance his illegal arms trade in Canada,” Gabriel realized, his voice trembling with controlled fury. “When Nathan discovered the discrepancy, Matteo realized he was caught. So he told Nathan that I was hunting down Eleanor’s bloodline, manipulated him into taking the fall for the missing three hundred grand, and sent him fleeing into the night.”
“And then,” Madeline added, realization dawning on her face, “Matteo told you that Nathan stole the money, knowing you would send Dominic to grab me!”
“He expected me to execute you or throw you into a dark room,” Gabriel growled, slamming his fist gently against the window frame. “And when the truth eventually came out, Matteo would have used my 'cruelty' against my own cousin to rally the old bosses in Sicily and strip me of my title.”
Madeline set the tablet down, her mind working furiously. “Matteo doesn't know you recognized the ring yet, does he?”
Gabriel turned to face her, a dark, brilliant smile spreading slowly across his face. “No. He believes you are currently locked in my basement, weeping for your life.”
May you like
Madeline stood up from the bed, her chin lifting with the same unshakeable resolve her mother had possessed.
“Then let’s make sure he keeps believing it,” Madeline said softly. “Until we spring the trap.”
