Chapter 6: Terminal
The private aviation terminal was twenty minutes from the reception venue.
Rocco sat in the back of the car and said nothing.
Sal drove.
Marcus sat beside him, not handcuffed — there was no legal basis for that yet — but with Sal's presence making the geometry of the situation clear enough.
Rocco's phone lit up twice during the drive.
Grace, his attorney.
He answered the second call.
"The injunction is filed," she said.
"Emergency basis.
Judge Harmon is reviewing it tonight.
You should have a temporary freeze on the Meridian accounts within the hour."
"What about the Cayman structure?"
"That's slower.
International coordination.
But if the beneficial ownership documentation Maria has is authentic, we have a strong basis.
I need her to send me those originals tonight."
"I'll have her do it now."
"Rocco." Grace paused.
"The custody file Marcus mentioned.
If Daniel has commissioned private medical opinions, they're not worth much on their own — but they can create noise.
We should get ahead of it.
I want to bring in a family law specialist first thing tomorrow."
"Do it."
"How is Noah?"
Rocco looked out the window at the dark highway.
"He's with someone I trust."
"Good." Another pause.
"I'm sorry this happened at your engagement reception."
"Don't be.
Better there than after the wedding."
He ended the call and texted Maria the instruction to photograph and send every page of the documents to Grace directly.
The terminal came into view — a low, glass-fronted building set back from the main airport, lit warmly from inside.
Through the windows, Rocco could see the small waiting area.
A handful of people.
Leather chairs.
A service desk.
And Daniel, seated near the far window, a carry-on bag at his feet, his phone in his hand.
He looked up when Rocco walked through the door.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Daniel was thirty-seven.
He had their father's jaw and their mother's eyes, and he had spent his entire adult life being angry about which of those things he'd inherited and which he hadn't.
He stood slowly, the way a man does when he's decided that standing is better than being caught sitting.
"Rocco."
"Sit back down, Daniel."
Daniel didn't sit.
"Whatever Marcus told you—"
"Marcus told me everything.
Including the custody file."
Something moved across Daniel's face.
Gone before it fully formed.
"That file is a legal precaution.
Nothing more.
I have every right as Noah's uncle to—"
"You commissioned medical opinions designed to portray your three-year-old nephew as a child in an unstable home so you could use them as leverage against me in a trust dispute." Rocco's voice was level.
"Don't tell me what your rights are."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"Dad gave you everything.
The company.
The trust.
The house in Westchester.
I got a check and a handshake."
"You got four million dollars."
"And you got forty.
And the name.
And the respect.
And every room we ever walked into together." Daniel's voice cracked at the edge.
"Do you have any idea what it's like to be your brother?"
"I know exactly what it's like," Rocco said.
"Because I spent twenty years trying to include you in every room I walked into.
And you spent those same twenty years waiting for me to fail so you could take what you thought you were owed."
Daniel said nothing.
"The accounts are frozen," Rocco said.
"As of tonight.
Grace has filed the injunction.
The Cayman structure is being reviewed.
Marcus is cooperating."
Daniel's hand tightened around his phone.
"You're not getting on that flight," Rocco said.
"You can call your attorney from here.
But you're not leaving."
"You can't stop me.
You're not law enforcement."
"No," Rocco agreed.
"But Grace has already been in contact with the financial crimes unit.
They'll want to speak with you.
You can do that voluntarily tonight, or you can get on that plane and make it significantly worse for yourself." He paused.
"Your choice.
You have two minutes."
Daniel looked at the door.
Then at Sal, who had positioned himself near it without appearing to have moved at all.
Then he looked at Rocco.
"I never wanted to hurt Noah," he said.
"I want you to know that."
"Then you should have thought about that before you put his name in a file designed to take him away from his father."
Daniel sat back down.
He didn't call his attorney immediately.
He sat with his phone in his hands and stared at the floor, and for a moment he looked less like the man who had built a two-year scheme and more like the boy Rocco remembered from their father's funeral — lost, and furious about it, and not knowing how to be either thing without making it someone else's problem.
Rocco pulled out his own phone and called Grace back.
May you like
"He's here," he said.
"He's staying."
