Chapter 17 - THE MORETTI BLOODLINE
The stairwell led underground.
Agent Ortiz wanted us behind tactical officers.
Luka refused.
I refused too.
For once, she stopped arguing.
The lower level smelled like smoke and disinfectant.
Old laboratory doors lined the corridor.
Elias waited in the final room.
Ethan sat tied to a chair.
Alive.
Angry.
Elias held the sealed DNA envelope.
Three federal officers aimed weapons at him.
He held none.
That made the scene stranger.
“You came.”
He said it to me.
“I’m tired of people sounding surprised.”
His eyes moved to Luka.
“My son.”
Luka’s expression became ice.
“Don’t.”
Elias smiled.
“Dominic called you that too.”
“He earned it.”
“Did he?”
Luka stepped forward.
“Yes.”
“He lied to you for years.”
“So did you.”
“I gave you life.”
“Teresa gave me life.”
“You donated a cell.”
Even Ethan laughed.
The insult landed perfectly.
Elias’s face tightened.
I almost smiled.
Luka looked at Ethan.
That was the first time I saw something almost brotherly between them.
Not affection.
Shared contempt.
Elias recovered.
“You both think morality makes you stronger.”
“No.”
I stepped forward.
“I think it makes you lonely.”
He looked at me.
“Your father said something similar.”
“Then maybe you should have listened.”
His smile vanished.
“Thomas was sentimental.”
“He survived you.”
“For a time.”
My anger sharpened.
“He’s alive.”
For the first time, Elias truly reacted.
A tiny widening of the eyes.
He had not known.
I smiled.
“You didn’t know.”
He said nothing.
“You lost track of him.”
Still nothing.
“Good.”
Luka almost smiled.
Elias raised the envelope.
“This contains proof of my original succession plan.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Don’t believe him.”
I looked at Elias.
“Open it.”
He seemed surprised.
“You’re not afraid?”
“Of DNA?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“I’m afraid of secrets.”
His face changed.
That was not the answer he wanted.
He tore open the envelope.
Inside was an old genetic report.
He read.
Then handed it to me.
I scanned the page.
Elias Mercer.
Luka Moretti.
Ethan Mercer.
Paternity probabilities.
Luka: 99.99 percent.
Ethan: 99.99 percent.
Nothing new.
Then an inheritance compatibility score.
Luka ranked higher.
I frowned.
“What is this?”
Elias answered.
“A proprietary index.”
“For what?”
“Genetic continuity.”
Luka laughed.
“You invented a score to decide which son deserved money.”
“Control.”
“Not money.”
“Same disease.”
Elias ignored him.
“Luka had the stronger combination.”
“Teresa’s line carried traits my father valued.”
I felt disgust.
“Your family treated human beings like breeding charts.”
“Yes.”
No shame.
Ethan stared.
“So I was second choice.”
“Yes.”
The word hit him.
I saw decades of insecurity crystallize.
All his father’s comparisons.
All the pressure.
All the fear.
He had always been second.
Even when he did not know Luka existed.
Elias continued.
“But Luka was raised outside the Mercer structure.”
“He was uncontrollable.”
“Ethan was easier.”
Luka’s face hardened.
“You terrorized him because you couldn’t control me.”
Elias smiled.
“Exactly.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
That truth may have hurt more than anything.
Elias turned to me.
“When Ethan married you, the pairing became efficient.”
“Reed-Mercer maternal line.”
“Mercer paternal line.”
“Moretti trust access.”
“One child could stabilize everything.”
“Ava.”
“Yes.”
I hated hearing her name from him.
“You do not get to say her name.”
“She carries my blood.”
“She carries mine.”
Luka’s voice cut in.
“And Amelia’s.”
“You are not in that equation anymore.”
Elias smiled.
“Biology disagrees.”
Luka shook his head.
“No.”
“Biology explains connection.”
“It doesn’t grant ownership.”
The words hung in the room.
Lineage is ownership.
Elias’s philosophy.
Luka rejected it completely.
That was the difference.
I stepped toward Ethan.
“Why is he tied up?”
Elias answered.
“He tried to destroy the archive.”
Ethan laughed.
“I succeeded with half of it.”
For the first time, Elias looked genuinely angry.
“You burned irreplaceable records.”
“I burned your leverage.”
“You burned history.”
“I burned blackmail.”
Ethan looked at me.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get all of it.”
I stared at him.
Something had changed.
He was no longer begging not to know.
He was destroying the machinery that kept secrets powerful.
Agent Ortiz moved closer.
“Dr. Mercer, this ends now.”
Elias smiled.
“No.”
Then the lights went out.
Again.
I was beginning to hate rich men with access to building automation.
A loud mechanical sound followed.
A door sealed behind us.
Emergency lights glowed red.
Smoke began pouring from a vent.
“Gas?”
I shouted.
Luka covered my mouth with his sleeve.
Ortiz called for extraction.
Elias disappeared into the dark.
Ethan shouted.
“My restraints.”
Celeste entered from the hall wearing a respirator.
She cut him free.
“How did you get here?”
“I ignored instructions.”
“Of course.”
We moved toward the emergency exit.
Locked.
Luka kicked the lower panel.
Nothing.
Ethan pointed.
“Manual release behind the cabinet.”
Celeste and I pulled.
Luka reached behind it.
A lever clicked.
The door opened.
Fresh air.
We moved into the corridor.
Agents found Elias near the service tunnel.
He had collapsed from his own smoke system.
Poetic.
Not fatal.
He was arrested alive.
I was glad.
Death would have ended his consequences too quickly.
Outside, ambulances waited.
Ethan sat on a curb.
Celeste beside him.
Luka stood with me.
No one spoke for a while.
Then my phone rang.
Dad.
I answered.
“Milly.”
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Elias?”
“Caught.”
Dad exhaled.
“Good.”
Then his voice changed.
“There’s one thing left.”
“What?”
“The Moretti Vault.”
I looked at Luka.
“What about it?”
“Destroy the claim.”
“How?”
Dad whispered.
“Dominic left Luka a choice.”
Luka frowned.
“What choice?”
Samuel took the phone.
“Dominic amended the trust before he died.”
“He added a renunciation clause.”
Luka stared.
“What does that mean?”
“If any descendant believes the vault is causing harm, they can dissolve the entire private family claim.”
“What happens to the assets?”
Samuel answered.
“They transfer to a public medical ethics foundation.”
Silence.
Eight hundred and forty-two million dollars.
Gone from the family.
Used for victims.
I looked at Luka.
He did not hesitate.
“Where do I sign?”
Ethan looked up.
“You’d give it all away?”
Luka looked at him.
“It was never mine.”
“It could be Ava’s.”
I stepped closer.
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
I looked at Ethan.
“Ava is not inheriting the price people put on her DNA.”
Luka nodded.
For the first time, Ethan smiled sadly.
“You two agree a lot.”
I looked at Luka.
“Don’t get used to it.”
He almost smiled.
Then Celeste’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her face changed.
“What?”
We waited.
She hung up.
“The Mercer trust activated before the injunction reached the trustee.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
“Ethan’s voting shares transferred.”
Ethan stared.
“I have control?”
“For now.”
“How much?”
“Fifty-one percent.”
Silence.
The man who had been manipulated his entire life now controlled the empire his father built.
Luka looked at him.
“What are you going to do?”
Ethan stared at the burning facility.
Then at me.
Then at his own hands.
“Destroy it.”
Celeste frowned.
“Mercer Medical employs thirty thousand people.”
“Not the company.”
He looked at me.
“The program.”
“The trusts.”
“The secrecy.”
“I’ll turn over every archive.”
“Fund every victim notification.”
“Open every settlement.”
He swallowed.
“And then I’ll resign.”
For the first time, I believed he meant it.
Then Agent Ortiz approached.
“Ethan Mercer?”
He stood.
“Yes.”
“You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit medical fraud, unlawful reproductive material transfer, and related offenses.”
Celeste went pale.
Ethan simply nodded.
“I know.”
He turned to me.
No begging.
No excuses.
“Take care of her.”
He looked toward the photograph of Ava on my phone.
Then at Luka.
“And if she ever asks who I was…”
I waited.
He gave a broken smile.
“Tell her I learned too late.”
The agents led him away.
I watched until he disappeared.
Then Luka looked at me.
“That doesn’t have to be the last thing she learns about him.”
I stared.
“What do you mean?”
“People can become more than their worst choice.”
I thought about Dad.
Dominic.
Celeste.
Ethan.
Maybe even myself.
“Sometimes.”
I said.
“Sometimes.”
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
The text contained one sentence.
ELIAS MERCER WAS NEVER THE FINAL AUTHORITY ON M-17.
My skin went cold.
A second message followed.
CHECK WHO SIGNED THE FIRST PROGRAM CHARTER.
Attached was a scanned document.
At the bottom were three signatures.
Charles Mercer.
Elias Mercer.
And one name I recognized instantly.
MARGARET REED HAYES.
May you like
My mother.
And just when I thought the dead had finally stopped keeping secrets, Mom stepped back into the story.
