A Little Girl Washed the Mafia King’s Feet, and His Empire Began to Bleed

“You think I have not considered that?”

“I think you are accustomed to solving logistical problems with threats.”

He almost ended the call.

Sal watched him.

Massimo looked at the gray stone on the desk.

“What do you need?” he asked.

Brooks’s voice softened by no measurable amount.

“A witness. A controlled communication. Medical confirmation. Something tying Foster to the drugs or the attack. And if you are serious about cooperation, you will meet our attorneys before Saturday.”

“I cannot leave.”

“We can arrange a secure video conference.”

“Dean monitors the network.”

“Then your former security chief will find another way. That is why criminals invest so heavily in tunnels.”

Sal looked offended.

“How does she know about the tunnels?”

Massimo ignored him.

Brooks continued.

“Mr. Rinaldi, understand this clearly. Cooperation does not purchase innocence.”

“I am not innocent.”

It was the first time he had said the words aloud.

The following morning, Massimo fired Carla in front of the entire household.

Dean had asked for a staff meeting in the main hall to review wedding security. Florists carried branches through the east entrance. Caterers argued about refrigerator space. Nina sat on the bottom stair with her rabbit.

Massimo waited until everyone was listening.

“Mrs. Bennett,” he said, “a bracelet is missing from Miss Ashwood’s dressing room.”

Carla stared at him.

Camille turned sharply.

“What bracelet?”

“The diamond one your father gave you.”

“I was wearing it last night.”

Massimo did not look at her.

“Mrs. Bennett had access to the room.”

Dean watched from beside the front doors.

Carla’s face changed slowly. Confusion became comprehension, then anger.

“You think I took it?”

“I think your services are no longer required.”

Nina stood.

“Mommy didn’t take anything.”

Carla’s eyes remained on Massimo.

He needed her to understand. He needed Dean to believe. He had hidden Camille’s bracelet inside the cleaning cart and arranged for Rosa to discover it after Carla left. The accusation would create a reason to remove them quickly and publicly.

He had not anticipated how it would feel to use Carla’s poverty against her.

“You will receive two months’ salary,” he said.

“I don’t want your money.”

Dean stepped forward.

“Let’s not make this unpleasant.”

Carla looked at him.

“It was unpleasant before you spoke.”

A few staff members lowered their eyes.

Massimo kept his voice cold.

“You have one hour to collect your belongings.”

Nina ran toward him.

“You’re lying!”

Carla caught her around the waist.

“He’s lying,” Nina sobbed. “Tell him!”

Massimo made himself look away.

Carla lifted her daughter. Nina kicked against her, one shoe falling onto the marble.

“You said angry doesn’t get to be mean!” she screamed at Massimo.

The words followed him after Carla carried her upstairs.

Dean approached the wheelchair.

“That was abrupt.”

“Camille should not have to worry about thieves before her wedding.”

Camille’s gaze moved between them.

“I was wearing the bracelet last night,” she repeated.

“You own several.”

“Not like that one.”

Massimo met her eyes.

For the first time, he saw fear rather than contempt.

Dean placed a hand on the back of Massimo’s chair.

“I’ll have security search Carla’s room.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I want her gone, not arrested.”

Dean’s thumb moved once against the leather handle.

“Merciful.”

“Do not confuse disinterest with mercy.”

The old phrase came easily. It had belonged to Massimo’s father. Dean had heard it many times.

He smiled.

“Of course.”

Sal drove the bakery van through the west gate forty-seven minutes later. Carla and Nina sat between flour sacks in the cargo area. Carla’s dismissal papers lay on the guard’s desk. Camille’s bracelet was discovered in a laundry cart before noon, but by then the van had crossed into Queens.

Dean sent men to Carla’s apartment anyway.

Brooks’s agents watched them enter.

The first useful recording came that afternoon.

Dr. Hale arrived agitated. He shut the library doors and spoke before sitting.

“You asked the dispensary for a medication inventory.”

Massimo looked up from the trust documents.

“I asked my accountant.”

“The dispensary called me.”

“Why?”

“Because I prescribe your medication.”

“Then explain the unmarked tablets.”

Hale’s face emptied.

Massimo placed the pill in its evidence pouch on the desk.

The doctor did not touch it.

“Where did you get that?”

“A child found it in my carpet.”

Hale looked toward the door.

“Does Dean know?”

“Why would that matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

“You asked before you said it didn’t.”

Hale removed his spectacles. His fingers shook.

“That compound is sometimes used off-label for severe spasms.”

“Not according to the medication list you signed.”

“The list may not reflect every adjustment.”

“You documented absent reflexes I possess.”

Hale’s eyes lifted.

Massimo tapped his right foot against the wheelchair support.

The movement was small but unmistakable.

Hale sat down hard.

“Oh, God.”

“Not the professional opinion I expected.”

“You stopped the medication.”

“Some.”

“You could have a seizure.”

“Dr. Park disagrees with your management.”

The name struck him.

“Evelyn Park?”

“You know her.”

“I know of her.”

“She says my injury was incomplete from the beginning.”

Hale pressed both hands against his mouth.

A button beneath Massimo’s desk transmitted the conversation to Sal in the service tunnel and to Brooks’s team in a rented van beyond the estate’s southern wall.

Massimo leaned forward.

“Who instructed you to suppress my recovery?”

“No one.”

“Who pays your consulting company?”

Hale stood.

“I cannot discuss private contracts.”

“You cannot leave.”

The doctor froze.

Massimo had not raised his voice. That made the threat clearer.

“I should call Dean,” Hale said.

“Call him.”