Stella Chose to Go
Chapter 10 - Stella Chose to Go
Luca gave them ninety minutes.
No police.
No Victor.
No trackers.
Bring Stella Quinn to Pier Nineteen.
Jonah listened without interrupting.
Then Luca disconnected.
The old Jonah would have issued six orders before the line went dead.
Frankie’s team to the south entrance.
Two shooters above the warehouses.
Victor detained.
Stella locked in a safe room.
Instead, Jonah looked at her.
“What do you want to do?”
The question frightened Stella more than an order would have.
Because now the answer belonged to her.
“I want Frankie alive.”
“So do I.”
“I want the key.”
“So do I.”
“I do not want to be traded.”
Jonah’s jaw tightened.
“Never.”
“That sounded like a decision.”
He stopped.
Then nodded.
“Right.”
Stella paced once.
“Luca asked for me specifically.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Patrick’s daughter.”
“Or because Helena placed me here.”
“Both.”
“Then refusing to appear may get Frankie killed before we learn anything.”
Jonah’s face hardened.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You asked what I wanted.”
“I did.”
“I want to go.”
He closed his eyes.
Not anger.
Fear.
When he opened them, his voice was controlled.
“I hate that answer.”
“I know.”
“I am going with you.”
“You cannot exactly hide behind a shipping crate.”
His mouth almost moved.
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Stella considered.
“You stay where you can leave.”
“No.”
“Jonah.”
“My wheelchair does not make me cargo.”
The sentence stopped her.
She had made the mistake.
Not intentionally.
Still.
“You’re right.”
He looked surprised.
“I’m sorry.”
A pause.
“Thank you.”
They built a plan with Victor.
Not because they trusted him.
Because Luca expected them not to.
Victor knew Pier Nineteen.
Old cold-storage complex.
Three entrances.
One river exit.
Stella insisted Mara Sloan, the federal prosecutor Helena had quietly contacted, be told.
Jonah objected.
Then agreed.
Progress sometimes looked like a man swearing while dialing law enforcement.
Mara arrived with two agents and no patience.
“You people create federal cases like other families create holiday arguments.”
Victor almost smiled.
“No gunfight,” she said.
Jonah looked offended.
“I did not request one.”
“Your biography did.”
Stella liked her immediately.
They placed a transmitter inside Stella’s medical bag.
Not on Stella.
Her condition.
No tracking on her body without consent.
Mara agreed.
At Pier Nineteen, fog moved over the river.
Stella entered first.
Jonah followed fifty feet behind with Victor pushing neither chair nor strategy.
Frankie sat tied to a metal chair beneath a hanging work light.
Alive.
Face bruised.
One eye swollen.
Luca stood behind him.
Jonah’s cousin was forty-five, handsome in a polished way, dark coat perfectly dry despite the weather.
Stella had seen him in company Christmas photographs.
He looked like the man who remembered every employee’s spouse’s name.
That somehow made him worse.
“Stella.”
“Luca.”
“You brought Jonah.”
“You asked for me. You didn’t say I had to come alone.”
Luca smiled.
“You really are Patrick’s daughter.”
“People keep using my parents as compliments. It is becoming lazy.”
Frankie almost laughed through split lips.
Luca looked at Jonah.
“You look better.”
“Disappointed?”
“A little.”
“Where is the key?”
Luca held it up.
Small brass.
Red tag removed.
“Where are the ledgers?”
Stella folded her arms.
“You kidnapped the only man who knows your security weaknesses and then asked us to tell you what you want before releasing him.”
Luca tilted his head.
“You think this is negotiation.”
“What is it?”
“Closure.”
Jonah’s eyes narrowed.
Luca continued.
“Matteo spent years tearing apart everything our fathers built.”
“Our fathers?”
Jonah’s voice changed.
Luca smiled.
“You know about Victor.”
Victor stood near the doorway.
No reaction.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jonah said.
“It always matters.”
“No.”
Luca looked at him.
Jonah’s voice remained calm.
“Blood did not put me in that chair.”
Something changed in Luca’s face.
There.
Stella saw it.
“Did you order the shot?”
Jonah asked.
Luca smiled.
“Matteo told you that?”
“No.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Jonah looked at Stella.
“She taught me to watch what people answer instead of what I ask.”
Luca’s smile faded.
Stella felt a brief pulse of pride.
Terrible timing.
Luca looked toward Frankie.
“Your security chief betrayed you years ago.”
Frankie raised his head.
“I betrayed Victor.”
“You betrayed everyone.”
“Maybe.”
Good answer.
Luca turned to Stella.
“Your father was no saint either.”
“I know.”
“He took money.”
Stella’s stomach tightened.
“From who?”
“Anthony Navarro.”
Jonah looked sharply at him.
Luca smiled.
“Patrick accepted seventy-five thousand dollars six months before he died.”
Stella said nothing.
“Ask Helena.”
“I will.”
“He was bought.”
“Maybe.”
“Not maybe.”
Luca’s confidence returned.
“He stopped his audit.”
Stella remembered Patrick’s email.
NO MORE HALF-MEASURES.
“Or he changed strategy.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
Good.
She continued.
“You have the key. Open the locker.”
“I need the location.”
“You already know 317.”
“The false panel location.”
Stella did not know.
Victor might.
Frankie might.
No one showed it.
Luca’s patience thinned.
“Stella.”
“What?”
“Your father left the panel code in your childhood records.”
She stared.
“What records?”
“Vaccination book.”
A strange memory surfaced.
Patrick writing numbers beside vaccine dates because he mistrusted doctors’ handwriting.
Stella had kept the book.
At home.
Luca saw recognition.
“There.”
Jonah moved his chair half an inch forward.
Luca lifted a gun toward Frankie.
Stella raised her hand.
“Stop.”
Everyone froze.
She looked at Jonah.
Then at Luca.
“I know the code.”
Jonah’s eyes flashed.
She did not.
Not completely.
But she had a pattern.
Patrick’s favorite numbers.
Her birthday.
Her mother’s birthday.
Fishing license.
She took a breath.
“You release Frankie first.”
“No.”
“Then shoot him and lose the code.”
Luca looked at her.
“You assume I need you alive.”
“No.”
Stella’s voice steadied.
“I assume you need my memory intact.”
Silence.
Luca lowered the weapon slightly.
That was enough.
Frankie moved.
The chair had not been tied as securely as it looked.
One wrist came free.
Victor lunged.
Jonah hit the emergency horn on his chair.
The sound exploded through the warehouse.
Luca turned instinctively.
Stella dropped.
Federal agents came through the side entrance.
No dramatic exchange.
No bullets spraying.
One shot.
Luca fired toward Victor.
Missed.
Mara’s agent disarmed him.
Thirty seconds later, Luca was face-down on concrete.
Frankie remained sitting because one ankle was still tied.
Stella crawled to him.
“You okay?”
“I’ve had better meetings.”
She laughed.
Then cried.
Frankie looked toward Jonah.
Jonah sat twenty feet away.
Breathing hard.
Upright.
Alive.
He met Stella’s eyes.
No victory smile.
Only relief.
Later, while Mara read Luca his rights, Stella opened her medical bag.
The transmitter was gone.
She frowned.
“When did—”
Frankie looked toward Luca.
“Check his pocket.”
An agent did.
Tiny transmitter.
Luca had removed it when Stella dropped.
He had known she was wired.
Which meant someone had warned him.
Mara’s face hardened.
“Only six people knew.”
Stella counted.
Mara.
Two agents.
Victor.
Jonah.
Stella.
Frankie had been captive.
Helena did not know location.
Dr. Aris did not know.
Then one of Mara’s agents went pale.
His partner.
The second agent.
May you like
He was gone.
And the federal leak they had been hunting had been standing beside them all night.
