Chapter 4 - The Traitor at the Table
Carlo Vitale returned to Eldergate the following afternoon as if nothing had happened.
That was the part Stefano found most insulting.
He drove through the front gate at 3:12, stepped from his car, adjusted his jacket, and limped toward the mansion carrying Damiano's usual afternoon espresso.
The lion pin was missing from his lapel.
Damiano waited in the library.
"Boss."
Carlo placed the cup down.
"Heard there was trouble last night."
Damiano looked at the coffee.
"Was there?"
Carlo's expression never changed.
"Marco disappeared."
"Did he?"
"Nobody's seen him."
Damiano lifted the cup.
Carlo watched.
Damiano didn't drink.
Instead he asked, "Do you remember Newark?"
Carlo's eyes sharpened.
"Of course."
"The shotgun."
A faint smile.
"I remember the hospital more."
"You saved my life."
"That's what family does."
Damiano set down the cup.
"Take off your jacket."
Silence.
Carlo understood.
Still, he obeyed.
"Your shirt too."
Carlo's right thigh scar became visible.
Damiano had spent years believing that wound came from buckshot.
Stefano had obtained the old medical report that morning.
The scar pattern was wrong.
The wound had been fired at close range.
Not Newark.
Not during the attack.
Carlo slowly buttoned his shirt again.
"How long?" Damiano asked.
Carlo sighed.
"Long enough."
"For Salvatore?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Carlo laughed without humor.
"Because eleven years beside you taught me something."
"What?"
"Men like us don't retire."
Damiano said nothing.
"We die beside somebody else's table while younger men divide the chairs."
"So you sold me."
"I bought a future."
"You kidnapped Gabriel."
"I arranged transportation."
"And Lina?"
Carlo's expression shifted.
Barely.
Damiano saw it.
"The child wasn't part of my plan."
"But someone photographed her."
"Salvatore doesn't understand boundaries."
"And you do?"
Carlo looked away.
Damiano stood.
"Where is Gabriel?"
"You know I can't tell you."
Damiano stepped closer.
"You think I'm asking?"
Carlo smiled.
"That's your problem. You still believe fear works on men who already decided what their life costs."
Damiano studied him.
Then unexpectedly stepped back.
"Go."
Carlo blinked.
"What?"
"Leave."
Even Stefano looked confused.
Carlo stared at Damiano for several seconds.
Then he walked out.
Stefano waited until the front door closed.
"You've lost your mind."
"No."
Damiano looked toward a monitor.
A tiny tracker had been placed beneath Carlo's collar while he was searched entering the estate.
"He's taking us to Gabriel."
Carlo drove west.
Not toward Manhattan.
Toward Brooklyn.
Damiano followed from three vehicles back.
Stefano drove.
Two more cars remained behind them.
The tracker stopped near Red Hook.
An abandoned shipping terminal.
"Pier 19," Stefano said.
"Salvatore changed nothing."
"He thinks we're afraid of the obvious trap."
They entered through the waterfront side.
Inside, Gabriel Moretti sat tied to a steel chair.
Twenty-two.
Dark hair.
Damiano saw his brother in the young man's face immediately.
Carlo stood nearby.
Salvatore Conti emerged from behind stacked containers.
He was sixty-one, elegant, gray-haired, almost grandfatherly.
"Damiano."
"Release him."
"Documents first."
Damiano carried a leather case.
Inside were signed transfer papers.
Worth more than most men could spend in ten lifetimes.
Salvatore smiled.
"You really would give away an empire for a boy you've barely met."
"Yes."
Gabriel looked at Damiano.
Something passed between them.
Not affection.
Not yet.
Recognition.
Salvatore opened the case.
Then alarms erupted.
Police sirens.
Coast Guard lights flooded the water.
Salvatore spun toward Carlo.
"What did you do?"
Carlo looked equally stunned.
Damiano smiled faintly.
"Neither of us."
Lucia had done it.
Hours earlier, she had found the photograph of Lina.
She had understood something Damiano had forgotten.
Power didn't only mean guns and money.
Evidence mattered.
She had copied Carlo's burner-phone data and sent it anonymously to federal investigators.
Damiano hadn't known.
For once, someone had protected him without asking permission.
Chaos erupted.
Gabriel kicked the chair sideways.
Stefano moved.
Damiano crossed the floor.
Carlo had one chance to run.
Instead, he looked toward Salvatore.
Eleven years of betrayal ended in one decision.
Carlo stepped between Salvatore and Damiano.
"Enough."
Salvatore stared at him.
"You belong to me."
Carlo shook his head.
"That was the first lie."
Authorities entered seconds later.
Salvatore was arrested.
Carlo surrendered.
Gabriel was freed.
But before they took Carlo away, he looked at Damiano.
"The photograph of Lina wasn't mine."
"I know."
"I never would have touched the kid."
Damiano believed him.
That didn't forgive anything.
But it mattered.
Then Carlo said something else.
"Salvatore wasn't the only one."
Damiano's expression hardened.
"What?"
Carlo looked toward the officers.
May you like
"There is someone else inside Eldergate."
And suddenly, winning felt very much like losing.
