Chapter 8 - The Witness From Pier 44
I did not sleep that night.
Men like me are supposed to sleep easily.
That is what people believe.
They think power removes fear.
They think money creates safety.
They think having hundreds of people willing to protect you means you are untouchable.
They are wrong.
The more power you have, the more people want to see you fall.
And the more secrets you carry, the more dangerous every shadow becomes.
I sat alone in my office until sunrise.
The photograph was still on my desk.
The man from Pier 44.
The man who was erased.
The man who should not exist.
I had spent years believing I knew every person connected to that night.
I was wrong.
Someone had removed him from the investigation.
Someone had protected him.
Someone had made sure his name disappeared.
And now he was back.
---
At seven in the morning, Matteo entered my office.
He looked like he had not slept either.
“We found him.”
I looked up.
“Name.”
“Thomas Vale.”
The name meant nothing.
That bothered me.
Everyone connected to my family had a history.
Everyone had records.
Everyone left fingerprints somewhere.
But Thomas Vale had almost none.
“Who is he?”
Matteo placed a folder on the desk.
“That is the strange part.”
I opened it.
Inside were documents.
Birth records.
Employment records.
Old photographs.
But every important page had been altered.
“He has been erased.”
“Yes.”
“By who?”
Matteo hesitated.
“That is what worries me.”
I looked at him.
“Say it.”
“Someone with access to government records.”
I leaned back.
Because this was no longer a family problem.
This was bigger.
Much bigger.
“Find him.”
“We are already looking.”
“No.”
I closed the folder.
“Find him before anyone else does.”
Matteo nodded.
Then stopped.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“There is something else.”
I waited.
“The hospital security footage.”
“What about it?”
“We reviewed the footage from the night Delia was attacked.”
“And?”
“Celeste entered the conservatory alone.”
I stared.
“That contradicts what you told me.”
“Yes.”
“Then explain.”
Matteo placed another image on the desk.
A second camera angle.
A hidden camera.
One nobody knew existed.
“This was recorded before Celeste entered.”
I looked at the screen.
My stomach tightened.
Because now I saw the truth.
Celeste was not the first person inside the conservatory.
Someone else had been there.
Someone who opened the door.
Someone who waited.
Someone who wanted Delia found.
The figure was blurry.
But the shape was familiar.
A man.
Older.
Wearing a doctor’s coat.
Adrian Voss.
---
I went directly to the hospital.
I found Delia sitting by the window.
She looked at me and immediately knew something had happened.
“What did you find?”
I placed the photograph in front of her.
She looked at it.
Then her face changed.
“You know him.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
Her hand moved toward the photograph.
Slowly.
Carefully.
“Where did you get this?”
“Pier 44.”
Her eyes filled with fear.
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because he was there when Ewan died.”
I stared.
“You said he was involved.”
“I did.”
“You never said he was there.”
Delia looked away.
“Because I thought he was dead.”
The room became silent.
“What?”
She swallowed.
“Ewan told me Adrian was the person helping him.”
“Helping him?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“The investigation.”
That made no sense.
“Why would the doctor help my brother?”
“Because Adrian knew the truth.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
Delia looked at me.
“Because people who know the truth usually don’t survive.”
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Delia.”
She looked down.
“There is something else you need to know.”
I waited.
“Ewan did not discover the betrayal by accident.”
“What does that mean?”
“He was looking for it.”
“Why?”
She touched the photograph.
“Because your father left him a message.”
My heart stopped.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“What message?”
Delia looked at me.
“Your father knew he was going to die.”
The words were almost impossible to hear.
“What?”
“He knew someone wanted him gone.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because he thought he was protecting you.”
I laughed quietly.
Not because it was funny.
Because it hurt.
Everyone kept saying the same thing.
Protecting you.
Protecting you.
Protecting you.
But every secret they kept created another wound.
“What did my father leave?”
“A ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The original records of the organization.”
I stared.
“Where is it?”
Delia hesitated.
“Ewan had it.”
“Where?”
She looked at me.
“He gave it to me before he died.”
My breathing stopped.
“You had it for six years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Ewan told me if anything happened to him…”
She paused.
“Only give it to Gabriel when he becomes the man who can handle the truth.”
I looked away.
The answer hurt more than I expected.
Because I realized something.
Ewan knew me better than I knew myself.
He knew I would seek revenge before justice.
He knew I would destroy everything before understanding it.
“Where is the ledger?”
Delia reached beneath the blanket.
She removed a small key.
Old.
Rusting.
She placed it in my hand.
“It opens a box.”
“Where?”
“In the place where Ewan was supposed to meet me after Pier 44.”
I looked at the key.
“Why didn’t you go?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because I was there.”
I froze.
“What?”
“I was at Pier 44 that night.”
The room became silent.
“You were there when Ewan died?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did everyone say nobody survived?”
Delia looked at me.
“Because someone wanted everyone to believe that.”
I stepped closer.
“What happened?”
Her voice trembled.
“Ewan was not trapped by the fire.”
I waited.
“He was trapped because someone locked the doors.”
The air disappeared from the room.
Locked doors.
Not an accident.
Not a failure.
A murder.
“Who locked them?”
Delia looked at me.
And whispered the words that changed everything.
“The person who gave the order…”
She paused.
“Was the person standing beside you at your father’s funeral.”
My mind searched through every memory.
Every face.
Every person who stood beside me that day.
And then I understood.
There were only three people who never left my side.
Vincent.
Celeste.
And me.
My phone rang.
Matteo.
I answered.
“Boss.”
His voice was urgent.
“We found Thomas Vale.”
“Where?”
A pause.
Then:
“He is already inside the estate.”
I stood immediately.
“What?”
“He came voluntarily.”
“Why?”
Another pause.
Then Matteo said:
“Because he said he has been waiting six years to speak to you.”
I looked toward the door.
And for the first time in years...
May you like
I wondered if the truth had been hiding from me.
Or if someone had been waiting for me to become strong enough to survive it.
