Chapter 4 - The Brother Who Wanted a War
Dominic fired first.
The overhead light shattered.
Darkness swallowed half the warehouse.
Maria dropped.
Daniel’s chair tipped sideways.
Santino fired toward the catwalk.
Men shouted.
Gunshots cracked against steel.
Dominic dragged Maria behind a forklift.
“Stay down.”
“Daniel!”
“I’ll get him.”
“You can’t—”
“Maria.”
She stopped.
Dominic’s eyes were different now.
No suit.
No polished diner.
No controlled questions.
This was the man Greyhaven feared.
“Stay down.”
He disappeared into darkness.
Maria crawled toward Daniel.
The fake Marco had abandoned him.
She reached the chair.
Daniel groaned.
“You okay?”
“You came?”
“Of course I came.”
“That was stupid.”
“You’re welcome.”
She worked at the rope.
Across the warehouse, Santino shouted.
“Carlo!”
Laughter came from above.
“You Rinaldis always shout when you’re losing.”
Santino emptied several shots toward the sound.
Dominic emerged beside him.
“Stop wasting ammunition.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Then start thinking.”
Santino turned.
“You think I planned this?”
“You kidnapped Daniel.”
“To force you to open Dad’s safe.”
“You threatened Emily.”
Santino hesitated.
Dominic saw it.
“I never threatened the kid.”
Maria heard him.
She looked up.
“What?”
Santino shouted toward her.
“I sent the picture. I never touched her.”
Daniel said weakly, “He’s telling the truth.”
Maria stared.
“How would you know?”
“Marco took me.”
The real Marco.
Daniel coughed.
“Santino came later.”
Dominic looked toward the catwalk.
Marco appeared beside Carlo.
Everything shifted.
Santino had been working against Dominic.
But Marco had been working against both.
“Why the diner?” Dominic asked.
Santino crouched behind cover.
“I found Dad’s journals.”
“What journals?”
“In the old house.”
Dominic swore.
Their father’s study had been sealed after his death.
Santino must have broken in.
“He wrote about Bell’s. Said Joseph held the insurance policy.”
“Ledger?”
“I assumed.”
“And you thought threatening Maria would get it.”
“I didn’t threaten her.”
“You sent Marco.”
“Yes.”
“That was your mistake.”
Santino looked toward the catwalk.
“Apparently.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Santino laughed.
“Because you’d bury it.”
“Why?”
“Because you like being king.”
Dominic nearly hit him.
Instead he said, “Later.”
Gasoline continued spreading across the concrete channels along the warehouse floor.
Carlo’s voice came through speakers.
“Brothers arguing while the room fills with fuel. Salvatore would be proud.”
Maria freed Daniel’s hands.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so.”
They crawled toward Dominic.
Carlo continued.
“Your father never trusted either of you.”
Dominic shouted, “Come down and tell me yourself.”
“I’m old, Dominic. Not stupid.”
“You killed him?”
Silence.
Then Carlo laughed.
“No.”
Dominic froze.
“Who did?”
“Ask your brother.”
Dominic turned toward Santino.
Santino’s face went white.
“No.”
Carlo said, “Tell him.”
Santino shook his head.
“Dom—”
“Tell me.”
Santino looked twelve years old for one strange second.
Then twenty.
Then thirty-three.
“I was there.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
“When?”
“The night Dad died.”
“You told me you were in Boston.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because he called me.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“What happened?”
Santino’s voice cracked.
“He knew somebody was coming for him.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“What happened?”
“He gave me his journals.”
Dominic stared.
“And?”
“I left.”
“You left him?”
“He ordered me to.”
Dominic grabbed Santino by the collar.
“You left him alone?”
“He was alive when I left!”
Dominic shoved him back.
Carlo laughed overhead.
“Beautiful.”
Dominic ignored him.
“Did you kill Dad?”
“No.”
“Did you know who did?”
“No.”
“Then why did Carlo say ask you?”
Santino stared toward the catwalk.
“Because he knows what I saw.”
“What did you see?”
Santino opened his mouth.
A shot rang out.
He collapsed.
Maria screamed.
Dominic caught him.
Blood spread across Santino’s shoulder.
Not fatal.
Probably.
But bad.
Dominic dragged him behind a steel column.
Carlo’s voice boomed.
“No family history tonight.”
Dominic pressed his hand against Santino’s wound.
“Stay awake.”
Santino grimaced.
“I saw her.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“Who?”
“The woman leaving Dad’s house.”
“What woman?”
Santino’s breath shook.
“I knew her.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Before Santino could answer, flames erupted along the far wall.
Carlo had ignited the gasoline.
Fire raced in two directions.
Maria helped Daniel stand.
Smoke climbed.
“We need a way out!”
Dominic looked up.
Roof vents.
Catwalk access.
Steel loading doors.
All locked.
Then he remembered the warehouse’s history.
His father used it during the smuggling years.
Which meant—
“Tunnels.”
Maria stared.
“Again?”
“Old cities have old habits.”
They moved toward the concrete office.
Inside the empty safe, Dominic noticed scratches on the back wall.
He kicked it.
Metal rang hollow.
Maria looked at him.
“You think there’s a door?”
“No.”
Dominic stepped back.
“A shaft.”
He fired twice at the hinges.
Daniel stared.
“You just shoot everything?”
“Only stubborn architecture.”
The rear panel fell.
A maintenance tunnel appeared.
Narrow.
Dark.
Dominic pushed Daniel through first.
Then Maria.
Then Santino.
Fire reached the office.
Dominic climbed in last.
They crawled.
Smoke followed.
Behind them, Carlo’s men shouted.
They emerged beneath a loading ramp near the river.
Rain hit their faces.
Dominic dragged Santino outside.
Anthony’s vehicles arrived.
Men jumped out.
Dominic pointed toward the warehouse.
“Carlo Vescari is alive.”
Anthony froze.
Then gunfire erupted from inside.
“Get Daniel and Santino to a hospital.”
Maria grabbed Dominic’s arm.
“You’re staying?”
“I need Carlo.”
“The building is burning.”
“I know.”
“You’ll die.”
Dominic looked at her.
For a second the terrifying mafia boss disappeared.
There was only a tired man standing in the rain.
“My father died because I accepted a lie for seventeen years.”
Maria tightened her grip.
“You don’t correct that by dying.”
He looked at her hand.
Then back at the warehouse.
Anthony approached.
“Boss, police will be here in four minutes.”
Dominic made a decision.
“Let it burn.”
Anthony blinked.
“What?”
“Let the warehouse burn.”
He turned toward Maria.
“We go back to the diner.”
She stared.
“Why?”
“Because Carlo didn’t find the ledger.”
“How do you know?”
“He tried to kill us after opening the safe.”
Dominic looked toward the city.
“That means he still needs it.”
Maria understood.
“And he thinks I have it.”
“Yes.”
They returned to Bell’s at 4:06.
Fire trucks screamed toward the river behind them.
The diner was dark.
Front door locked.
Everything looked untouched.
Maria entered.
She went downstairs with Dominic.
The hidden room remained empty.
Dominic examined the walls.
Joseph Bell had hidden something.
The key had mattered.
The tunnel had mattered.
But the ledger wasn’t there.
Maria looked at her father’s old desk.
Then stopped.
“What?”
“He hated new furniture.”
Dominic frowned.
“So?”
“That desk downstairs.”
“Yes?”
“It wasn’t his.”
Dominic looked toward the steel desk.
Maria walked over.
“He used the same wooden desk for thirty years.”
She ran her hand underneath.
Her fingers found tape.
A small cassette recorder.
Old.
Dusty.
Dominic stared.
Maria pressed PLAY.
Static.
Then Joseph Bell’s voice filled the room.
“If Maria is hearing this, then they came.”
Maria covered her mouth.
Dominic stood perfectly still.
Joseph continued.
“Do not trust the ledger.”
Dominic frowned.
“The ledger was bait.”
Maria looked at him.
The recording crackled.
“The real evidence is inside something Salvatore believed neither son would ever destroy.”
Dominic whispered, “What?”
Joseph’s voice continued.
“The diner itself.”
Then came another voice.
Salvatore Rinaldi.
Dominic’s dead father.
“If Dominic hears this, son, listen carefully.”
Dominic gripped the desk.
Salvatore drew a breath.
“The person who murdered your mother is still sitting at our family table.”
The tape clicked.
Stopped.
Maria stared at Dominic.
He rewound it.
Pressed play.
Nothing.
The rest had been erased.
Then footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Dominic raised his gun.
A woman appeared in the doorway.
Elegant black coat.
Silver hair.
Dominic’s weapon lowered.
His face emptied of color.
“Aunt Elena?”
May you like
Elena Rinaldi smiled.
And behind her stood Marco.
