Chapter 5 - The Cabin in the Pines
The realization hit me like a physical blow.
Marco wasn't just trying to seize control of the Moretti family; he was handing the entire empire over to corrupt federal officials in exchange for immunity and complete control over the city’s trade routes. My father had faked his death because if he had gone to the authorities twelve years ago, the very people in charge of protecting him would have executed us both.
“Clara,” Vance spoke urgently from the vault doorway, looking at his tactical watch. “Luca just called. Marco’s men realized his underground team failed. They’re locking down the estate and surrounding Luca in the main courtyard. We need to move.”
“Where is the safehouse?” I asked, grabbing the hard drive and dossier.
I flipped to the back page of the dossier. Coordinates were written in my father’s crisp handwriting: 44.1029° N, 73.9821° W—Upstate New York, Lake Placid.
“We go to my father first,” I said firmly, holding the hard drive. “This drive holds the encryption keys to defeat Marco’s network. But only my father’s biometric signature can unlock it.”
We drove through the night, storming through torrential rain toward the dense pine forests of Upstate New York. Titan slept with his heavy head resting in my lap, as if sensing that every mile brought us closer to the man who had rescued him a decade and a half ago.
As dawn broke over the Adirondack Mountains, the SUV turned off the highway onto an unmarked dirt trail winding through towering white pines. At the end of the trail sat a secluded stone cabin, invisible from the air, surrounded by dense forest.
The vehicle came to a stop. My hands shook as I opened the door and stepped onto the damp pine needles.
The cabin door opened slowly.
A tall man stepped out onto the porch. His hair was silver at the temples, his face etched with weather lines and a deep scar along his jawline, but his green eyes were unmistakably the ones I had cried myself to sleep over for twelve years.
Samuel Walker stood before me.
Titan let out a high-pitched bark—a sound I had never heard the massive dog make before—and bounded up the porch steps, resting his front paws against my father’s chest.
My father dropped to his knees, burying his face in Titan’s fur for a brief moment, before raising his eyes to look at me. Tears glistened in his eyes.
“Clara,” he choked out, his voice rough with emotion. “My little girl.”
I ran up the steps and threw my arms around his neck, sinking into the familiar scent of cedar and leather that I thought had been lost forever.
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“You’re alive,” I sobbed, holding onto him as if he might vanish into thin air. “You’re really alive.”
“I’m sorry, Clara,” Samuel whispered, holding me tight. “Every single day of those twelve years broke my heart. But I had to stay dead until we had everything needed to cut the head off the snake.”
