Chapter 5 - The Chapel of Broken SaintsThe chapel stood in the woods north of the old Vale cemetery, hidden behind a collapsed stone wall and a line of pines so dense that sunlight rarely touched the ground. Dominic had been there once as a boy. Vittorio told him it was where their ancestors prayed before crossing the ocean.
That had been the first lie.
The second was that prayers had ever mattered there.
Dominic arrived before noon with Daniel, Marcus, Mia, and Nathan in the back of a black SUV. Claire remained locked inside Antonia’s brownstone under guard. Antonia had insisted on coming until Dominic told her one more betrayal from her would be the last act she ever performed as his mother.
She did not argue after that.
Mia should have been in bed with an IV in her arm.
Instead, she sat beside Dominic with Harper wrapped in Daniel’s jacket between them. The child had refused to leave her mother, and Mia had refused to let Dominic go without her.
“Rosa trusted me,” Mia whispered as trees flashed past the windows. “Her daughter’s name is Ana. She is seven. She likes strawberry gum and drawing cats on napkins.”
Dominic looked at the road ahead.
“We’ll get her back.”
Mia’s laugh was hollow.
“Men like you always say that after girls are taken.”
Dominic accepted the hit because he had earned it.
“You’re right.”
That surprised her.
She looked at him.
Dominic’s voice stayed low.
“I don’t know how to undo what my family did. But today, I can stop him from doing more.”
Mia studied him for a long moment.
“You really didn’t know about me?”
“No.”
“Would it have changed anything?”
The question was not accusation alone. It was pain asking whether the world could have been different.
Dominic thought of the years Mia had spent serving dinners where men discussed money made from fear. He thought of Harper sleeping above a secret archive filled with cameras. He thought of Elena writing warnings no one honored.
“Yes,” he said. “It would have changed everything.”
Mia looked out the window.
“I want to believe that.”
He did not ask if she did.
The chapel appeared just after the road narrowed into dirt.
Its roof sagged. Vines covered the stone walls. A rusted bell hung crooked in the tower. Around back, three black SUVs were parked beneath the trees.
Daniel slowed.
Marcus checked his rifle.
Nathan, bound but no longer gagged, leaned forward.
“You cannot rush this. Vittorio likes arrangements. If he brought the girl here, there is theater.”
Dominic turned.
“You know this because you helped him build the stage?”
Nathan’s eyes darkened.
“Yes.”
Mia looked at him with disgust.
Nathan did not look away.
“I am not asking forgiveness.”
“Good,” Mia said. “Because I don’t have any.”
Dominic gave orders quietly.
Daniel and two guards would sweep left. Marcus would circle right. Dominic would enter the front with Nathan. Mia and Harper were to remain in the vehicle with a guard.
Mia immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Dominic opened his mouth.
She spoke before he could.
“My mother hid keys because men kept deciding where women should be safe. I am done being placed somewhere.”
“You are injured.”
“And Ana is a child.”
Harper clutched Mia’s hand.
Mia looked down at her daughter.
For a moment, the mother in her warred with the survivor.
Then she kissed Harper’s forehead.
“You stay with Mr. Daniel’s friend, okay? You stay low. You don’t open the door unless I say.”
Harper shook her head, crying silently.
Mia’s face broke.
“I came back from the cellar,” she whispered. “I will come back from the chapel.”
Harper looked at Dominic.
“You promise?”
The question nearly destroyed him.
Dominic knelt beside the open SUV door.
“I promise I will do everything a man can do.”
Harper stared at him.
“That’s not the same.”
“No,” Dominic admitted. “It isn’t.”
Mia touched Harper’s cheek.
“But it is honest.”
Harper nodded slowly.
Mia stepped out.
Dominic did not stop her.
Together, they walked toward the chapel.
Nathan walked between them with Marcus behind him. Wind moved through the trees, carrying the smell of damp stone and old leaves. As they reached the chapel doors, Dominic saw fresh scratches on the lock.
The doors opened before he touched them.
Inside, candles burned along the aisle.
Dozens of them.
Their light flickered over broken pews, cracked saints, and a marble altar stained by time.
Ana sat on the altar steps with her wrists tied in front of her.
Her cheeks were wet.
A strip of silver tape covered her mouth.
Mia made a soft sound and moved forward.
Dominic caught her arm.
“Wait.”
Above them, the chapel bell creaked.
Then Vittorio Vale stepped from behind the altar.
He was thinner than Dominic remembered. Older, yes, but not fragile. His white hair was combed back. His black suit fit perfectly. A cane rested in one hand, though Dominic doubted he needed it.
Six years dead, and still he dressed like judgment.
Dominic felt something cold move through him.
Not fear.
Recognition.
This was the man who had shaped every room Dominic ever entered.
Vittorio smiled.
“My son.”
Dominic raised his gun.
“My father is in the ground.”
“Bodies are sentimental.”
Mia stared at him with an expression so full of hatred that even Vittorio noticed.
“And Sofia’s daughter,” he said. “You have her eyes.”
Mia’s voice shook.
“You killed my mother.”
Vittorio tilted his head.
“I ended a complication.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Release Ana.”
Vittorio looked at the girl as if he had forgotten she was there.
“Of course.”
He snapped his fingers.
A man emerged from the shadows and removed the tape from Ana’s mouth.
Ana screamed immediately.
“Mia!”
Mia lunged again, and this time Dominic let her go.
The moment Mia reached the child, two gunmen stepped from the side chapel and aimed at her head.
Dominic’s gun moved.
Vittorio smiled.
“One breath, Dominic.”
Everything stopped.
Mia froze with one hand inches from Ana.
Dominic kept his gun raised, but three weapons now pointed at Mia.
Nathan stood beside him, face tight.
Vittorio looked at Nathan.
“You look disappointing.”
Nathan’s mouth twisted.
“You look alive. We all suffer surprises.”
Vittorio chuckled.
“I saved you from the gutter. You repay me by losing a maid?”
Nathan’s expression darkened.
“You asked me to chain a mother beneath his house.”
“I asked you to control an asset.”
Mia flinched.
Dominic’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Vittorio noticed.
“Careful. There are children present.”
“That never stopped you.”
“No,” Vittorio said. “It taught you restraint.”
Dominic wanted to shoot him in the mouth.
Instead, he looked around.
Broken windows.
Four visible gunmen.
Likely more outside.
Ana shaking on the altar steps.
Mia kneeling before her, breathing hard, still too weak to run.
Nathan beside him.
Marcus hidden somewhere right.
Daniel somewhere left.
Vittorio wanted him angry.
So Dominic gave him stillness.
“What do you want?”
Vittorio smiled.
“There he is.”
“What do you want?”
“The ledger. The will. Elena’s journal. Mia Carter. In exchange, the little girl walks out.”
Mia turned.
“No.”
Vittorio ignored her.
Dominic said, “You want Mia because the trust still recognizes her.”
“I want what belongs to me.”
“Children don’t belong to you.”
Vittorio’s face hardened.
“Everything with Vale blood belongs to me.”
Mia stood slowly.
“I don’t.”
Vittorio looked at her.
For the first time, Dominic saw true anger in the old man’s eyes.
“You exist because I allowed it.”
Mia’s voice grew stronger.
“No. I exist because my mother loved me enough to run.”
The chapel seemed to hold its breath.
Vittorio lifted one hand.
A gunman stepped closer to Ana.
Dominic saw Ana squeeze her eyes shut.
Then the stained-glass window above the altar shattered.
Marcus fired from outside.
One gunman dropped.
Daniel burst through the side door.
Dominic fired twice, hitting the man nearest Mia.
Mia grabbed Ana and pulled her behind the altar.
Nathan moved faster than anyone expected. Still bound, he slammed his shoulder into Dominic, knocking him sideways just as a bullet struck the pew where Dominic’s head had been.
Dominic hit the floor, rolled, and fired toward the balcony.
A shooter fell through broken railing and crashed onto the pews.
Vittorio disappeared behind the altar.
Dominic chased him.
“Mia, stay down!”
But Mia was already crawling with Ana toward the side chapel.
Gunfire roared in the small stone building, deafening and wild. Candle flames jumped. Saints lost faces. Dust filled the air.
Dominic rounded the altar and saw Vittorio opening a trapdoor in the floor.
Of course.
Another tunnel.
Another escape built by a man who never planned to face consequences.
Dominic lunged.
Vittorio swung the cane.
Pain exploded across Dominic’s wrist. His gun flew.
The old man moved with shocking strength.
Dominic tackled him before he could vanish below.
They crashed against the altar.
For one brief, savage moment, father and son fought beneath a cracked statue of Mary.
Vittorio’s hand closed around Dominic’s throat.
“You were always too much like your mother,” he hissed. “Soft in the wrong places.”
Dominic drove his fist into Vittorio’s ribs.
“And you were always afraid of women with proof.”
Vittorio snarled.
Then Nathan appeared behind him.
Blood ran down Nathan’s face. His bound hands held a broken piece of pew like a club.
Vittorio looked at him.
“Nathan.”
For the first time all day, his voice held warning.
Nathan’s eyes flickered to Dominic.
Then to Mia, who was shielding Ana behind the altar.
Then back to the man who had owned him since youth.
“I should have done this twenty years ago,” Nathan said.
He struck Vittorio across the head.
The old man collapsed against the altar steps.
Dominic grabbed his fallen gun and aimed it at his father’s chest.
The chapel fell silent except for ragged breathing and distant shouting outside.
Vittorio blinked up at him, blood at his temple.
Then he smiled.
“You won’t kill me.”
Dominic stared at him.
Every dead woman stood between them.
Sofia.
Elena.
Every nameless girl in the files.
Every child used as leverage.
Mia whispered behind him, “Dominic.”
He did not turn.
Vittorio’s smile widened.
“You need me alive.”
Dominic lowered the gun slightly.
“You’re right.”
Vittorio’s smile faded.
Dominic looked at Daniel.
“Call the federal number in Elena’s journal.”
Daniel stared.
Dominic said, “All of them.”
Nathan’s face changed.
Claire’s words echoed in Dominic’s mind.
Judges. senators. bankers. clean hands and dirty appetites.
Dominic looked down at his father.
“You taught me power means making men afraid of what happens next.”
May you like
He stepped closer.
“So be afraid.”
