Chapter 5 - The Woman at the Head of the Table
Dominic did not believe him.
For twelve hours, he refused even to repeat the accusation.
His mother, Catherine Russo, was sixty-four.
Widowed.
Elegant.
Cold when necessary.
Devoted to Sofia.
She had moved to Florida after Elena died.
Dominic called her every Sunday.
She sent Sofia handwritten letters.
Victor’s accusation was impossible.
Until federal agents found Catherine’s signature on two offshore accounts.
Dominic sat in his study staring at the documents.
Mara stood near the window.
Sofia slept upstairs.
“You can leave,” Dominic said.
“I know.”
“I mean the estate.”
Mara turned.
“What?”
“You and Sofia can go somewhere safe.”
“And you?”
“I’ll stay.”
“Why?”
“To finish this.”
Mara walked toward the desk.
“You said that before.”
“This is different.”
“No.”
He looked up.
“Your uncle tried to make you destroy yourself.”
“That doesn’t mean my mother—”
“I’m not talking about your mother.”
Mara placed her palms on the desk.
“I’m talking about you.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“You keep turning every problem into something you have to face alone.”
“That’s my job.”
“No. That’s your habit.”
He leaned back.
“You have a remarkable talent for telling me things I don’t want to hear.”
“You have a remarkable talent for needing them.”
He almost smiled.
Then didn’t.
“Mara.”
“What?”
“You could have been killed today.”
“So could you.”
“I chose this life.”
“I chose to protect Sofia.”
“That doesn’t include gunmen.”
“It didn’t say it excluded them.”
“Mara.”
She smiled faintly.
“There. You did it again.”
“What?”
“Said my name like it’s a warning.”
“It usually is.”
“I’m still here.”
That ended the argument.
Dominic looked toward the floor.
“Why?”
Mara knew what he meant.
Why stay?
Why risk anything?
Why care?
She could have given an easy answer.
Sofia.
The money.
The job.
Instead she told the truth.
“Because I know what it feels like when everyone leaves the moment life gets ugly.”
Dominic looked at her.
“My father drank after my mother died,” she said. “Then he lost his job. Then the house. People stopped coming around.”
“You stayed.”
“I was nineteen.”
“You shouldn’t have had to.”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“One night he told me I was the reason my mother died.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“I left.”
“Good.”
“I spent years feeling guilty anyway.”
“Mara…”
She shrugged.
“I learned something.”
“What?”
“Sometimes staying is brave.”
She met his eyes.
“Sometimes leaving is braver.”
Dominic understood the message.
If his family was poisonous, blood did not require loyalty.
His phone rang.
Catherine Russo.
He stared at the screen.
Mara nodded toward it.
“Answer.”
Dominic did.
“Mother.”
“Are you all right?”
Her voice sounded calm.
“Where are you?”
“Palm Beach.”
“No, you’re not.”
Silence.
Dominic stood.
“Where are you?”
Catherine sighed.
“Come to the old restaurant.”
The line ended.
The Russo family’s first restaurant had closed fifteen years earlier.
A small Italian place in Queens.
Dominic drove there alone.
At least, he believed he did.
Mara followed in Anthony’s car.
When Dominic discovered her in the parking lot, he looked ready to explode.
“I told you to stay home.”
“You didn’t tell me anything.”
“You overheard.”
“Correct.”
“That still counts.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“Warning voice.”
Dominic sighed.
“You are impossible.”
“So you keep saying.”
Inside, Catherine sat at the old family table.
A bottle of wine stood unopened.
She looked older than Dominic remembered.
“Who is she?” Catherine asked.
“Mara Ellis.”
“The nanny.”
“Yes.”
Catherine looked at Mara carefully.
“So this is her.”
Dominic frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
Catherine gestured to a chair.
Dominic remained standing.
“Were you involved with Victor?”
Catherine folded her hands.
“Yes.”
Dominic’s face went blank.
Mara felt his pain from across the room.
“Did you kill Elena?”
“No.”
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
Dominic stepped backward.
That answer hurt more.
Catherine’s eyes filled.
“I knew Victor was moving money.”
“And?”
“I helped him hide it.”
“Why?”
“Your father left debts. Massive debts.”
Dominic stared.
“You told me he left us secure.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because you were twenty-six and trying to keep everything together.”
“So you stole.”
“I moved money.”
“You stole.”
Catherine looked away.
“Elena found it.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor killed her.”
“I didn’t know he would.”
“But you knew after.”
“Yes.”
Dominic’s voice broke.
“And you said nothing.”
Catherine began crying.
“I was afraid.”
Mara watched Dominic.
Victor had been cruel.
Catherine was worse.
Victor hated.
Catherine loved Dominic.
And still betrayed him.
“I called Elena that day,” Catherine said. “I begged her not to confront Victor.”
“She did anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Because she was brave.”
“Yes.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps telling me how brave my dead wife was while explaining why none of you helped her.”
Catherine covered her face.
Mara looked away.
The truth landed heavily.
Catherine finally whispered, “I saved the original recording.”
Dominic stopped.
“What?”
“Victor thought Elena had only one copy.”
“Where is it?”
Catherine reached into her handbag.
A small digital recorder.
“I kept it because I knew someday you’d need the truth.”
Dominic took it.
“You had four years.”
“I know.”
He stepped back.
“You don’t get to see Sofia.”
Catherine looked up sharply.
“Dominic.”
“No.”
“She’s my granddaughter.”
“You knew her mother was murdered.”
“I was afraid!”
“So was Elena.”
Catherine cried harder.
Dominic did not move.
Mara saw something inside him settle.
Not forgiveness.
A boundary.
For the first time in his life, Dominic Russo was choosing his daughter over the Russo name.
Federal prosecutors used Catherine’s recording.
Victor was charged with Elena’s murder, kidnapping, conspiracy, extortion, and financial crimes.
Several corrupt officials were arrested.
Catherine cooperated in exchange for a reduced sentence.
Dominic shut down every Russo business tied to illegal activity.
That decision made him enemies.
More importantly, it made him free.
Weeks passed.
The estate became quieter.
Sofia returned to school.
Mara returned to pretending she was only the nanny.
That became difficult.
Dominic ate breakfast now.
Mostly because Sofia demanded it.
He joined them at the kitchen island.
Sometimes Mara caught him watching her.
She pretended not to notice.
He pretended not to be watching.
They were both terrible liars.
One evening Sofia went to bed early.
Mara entered the kitchen.
Music played softly from her phone.
Dominic stood in the doorway.
No blood this time.
Dark sweater.
Black trousers.
Less dangerous.
More dangerous.
“You stopped dancing,” he said.
Mara smiled.
“You keep appearing.”
“I live here.”
“Convenient excuse.”
Dominic walked closer.
“Dance.”
She laughed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re watching.”
“That didn’t stop you before.”
“I didn’t know you were watching.”
He held out his hand.
“Then teach me.”
Mara stared at his hand.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Dominic Russo dances?”
“No.”
“Clearly.”
He waited.
Mara placed her hand in his.
Dominic drew her closer.
Not too close.
Enough.
She placed his other hand at her waist.
“Don’t step on me.”
“I’m offended.”
“You should be nervous.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
Mara smiled.
“Good.”
They moved awkwardly.
Then less awkwardly.
Dominic laughed.
A real laugh.
Sofia appeared at the doorway in pajamas.
Both adults jumped apart.
She grinned.
“I knew it.”
Dominic stared.
“Knew what?”
Sofia ran upstairs.
“Nothing!”
Mara covered her face.
Dominic laughed again.
Then his phone buzzed.
He checked it.
The laughter disappeared.
Mara stepped closer.
“What?”
An email.
From an unknown address.
Subject line:
ELENA’S LAST MESSAGE.
Dominic opened it.
One audio attachment waited.
The date showed it had been scheduled four years earlier.
And before Dominic could press play, Sofia shouted from upstairs.
“Daddy! There’s a woman outside!”
Dominic looked through the window.
A woman stood at the gate.
May you like
Holding a child.
And the child had Elena’s eyes.
