Chapter 6
I did not bring an army.
Sebastian would expect one after the garage failed.
So I brought Ruth.
That surprised everyone.
Including Ruth.
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
“I use a cane.”
“You also remember his lies better than anyone.”
She considered.
“Fair.”
Rafe came with six men.
Enough.
The vineyard house was lit when we arrived.
Sebastian sat on the terrace drinking coffee as if he had invited me.
Sixty-eight.
Silver hair.
Still handsome in the irritating Moreau way.
He looked at Ruth first.
“Little sister.”
She stared.
“Don’t.”
Good.
Then he looked at me.
“You should have stayed home.”
“I almost did.”
I sat across from him.
“No exploding car?”
His expression did not change.
Too controlled.
That told me Sloane had told the truth.
“You always were dramatic,” he said.
I almost laughed.
“My aunt was locked in a cage.”
“She interfered.”
Ruth slammed her cane once against the stone.
“Still talking like Father.”
Sebastian’s eyes hardened.
Interesting.
Old wound.
I asked:
“What did you want?”
“Balance.”
Of course.
Every failed coup uses that word.
He accused me of hollowing out Moreau.
Closing profitable arrangements.
Removing old captains.
Letting younger branches operate independently.
Refusing to punish relatives for the mistakes of family members.
I had heard it all before.
Then he mentioned the garages.
My father had built Moreau’s early power through transportation.
Cars.
Warehouses.
Drivers.
Sebastian considered that the “spine” of the organization.
I had reduced garage operations because too many old routes depended on intimidation and dangerous side businesses.
He saw it as betrayal of Henri.
Ruth laughed.
“Henri ordered half those routes closed before he died.”
Sebastian’s face changed.
There.
He did not know.
Ruth reached into her coat.
Pulled out an old brass key.
“My brother gave me this.”
Sebastian went still.
Not her brother.
Mine.
My father.
“What does it open?” I asked.
Ruth looked toward the vineyard garage.
“Henri’s last locker.”
Sebastian stood.
Too fast.
May you like
I understood.
Whatever was inside that locker, my uncle feared it more than six armed men on his terrace.
