Chương 14
Victor’s fist moved.
It stopped beside Dominic’s face, trembling with contained force.
The whole room waited.
Dominic did not flinch. Perhaps he wanted the blow. Perhaps he needed Victor to prove that nothing had changed.
Victor lowered his hand.
“What happened to my father?” he asked.
Dominic looked disappointed.
“I told you.”
“Who was there?”
“Bellini and a driver named Paul Mercer.”
“Where is Mercer?”
“Arizona. Retired.”
“How do you know?”
“I keep track of threats.”
“Where are the records?”
Dominic nodded toward the flash drive. “Some of them are there.”
Nina approached the table. “We will have the device copied by an independent examiner. Mr. Vale, you will provide the originals through counsel.”
Dominic looked at Victor. “And my guarantee?”
“You have it,” Victor said.
“In writing.”
“You have it in writing.”
Nina glanced at him, confirming the commitment.
Dominic sat back.
Victor picked up the fallen chair and placed it upright. The ordinary action seemed to unsettle Dominic more than violence would have.
Victor left the restaurant without touching him.
Outside, rain had begun. Leo opened the car door, but Victor remained beneath the awning.
“My father begged,” he said.
Leo did not answer.
Victor stared at the wet street. “I spent years believing he died because someone wanted his wallet.”
Leo shifted his weight. “Dominic lies.”
“He does.”
“The records may be fake.”
“They may.”
“You want Raymond to find Mercer?”
Victor looked at the traffic light changing through the rain.
“Yes.”
Then he added, “No threats.”
Leo nodded.
“And no one touches Dominic.”
Another nod.
Victor got into the car.
The flash drive contained genuine records mixed with altered ones. Forensic examination found inconsistent creation dates, copied signatures, and spreadsheets edited after the investigation began. Dominic had given them enough truth to gain credibility and enough falsehood to redirect blame.
One authentic file linked the original fifty-two-thousand-dollar theft to Bellini. Another documented Dominic’s later payment. A police report confirmed Victor’s father died after an assault, not a random robbery.
The driver, Paul Mercer, agreed to speak through an attorney. His account matched Dominic’s in essential details. Victor’s father had not given up his son. He had claimed he stole the money himself. Bellini struck him after calling him a liar.
The truth was better than what Victor had believed and worse than what he wanted.
He had not been betrayed.
He had been protected by a man who died because of it.
For two days, Victor spoke to almost no one.
He moved through the Gold Coast house at night, unable to remain in any room. Staff had been reduced while investigators interviewed employees. The halls felt emptied of the invisible labor that had once made them flawless.
A water ring remained on the dining-room table because no one had polished it.
A towel stayed on the floor outside the gym.
The broken bedroom doorstop waited beside the baseboard.
Victor noticed everything he had previously mistaken for happening by itself.
Anna came to the house on the third evening with David Shaw and Evelyn. They were there to identify personal items left in employee lockers and to review the rooms where staff schedules had been posted.
Victor found Anna in the upstairs hallway outside his bedroom.
She wore jeans, a brown coat, and flat boots. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. She looked healthier than the last time she had stood there, though fatigue remained beneath her eyes.
“The door is open,” she said.
Victor glanced at the damaged stopper. “It doesn’t close properly.”
“I meant unlocked.”
“It was always unlocked.”
“That seems unsafe for a feared mafia boss.”
“I had guards.”
“You pointed the gun at the employee who got past them.”
“They’ve heard about that.”
Anna looked into the room. The bed had been made with a fresh cream duvet. The bedside lamp glowed. The black handgun was nowhere visible.
“Do you sleep there now?” she asked.
“Sometimes.”
“That means no.”
Victor leaned against the doorframe. “What are you doing upstairs?”
“Mrs. Bell said the old schedules were kept in the linen office.”
“She’s helping?”
“She’s trying.”
“Do you forgive her?”
Anna considered the question. “Not yet.”
Victor nodded.
She looked at him. “Did you meet Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“That sounds like you want a medal.”
“I want recognition of progress.”
She almost smiled. “You get half a sticker.”
Victor looked toward the bedroom window. “He told me how my father died.”
Anna’s humor disappeared.
He told her the account without embellishment. His voice remained even until he described his father claiming responsibility for the theft. Then the words became slower.
Anna listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she stepped inside the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Victor remained at the door.
“You can come into your own room,” she said.
He entered but stayed standing.
“You were trying to save Lucia,” Anna said.
“I got my father killed.”
“You didn’t know Bellini would go to him.”
“I knew men like Bellini existed.”
“You were nineteen.”
“So is Thomas.”
“Thomas makes terrible decisions.”
“He buys hamburgers.”
“He once stopped taking blood pressure medication because he thought it caused bad dreams.”
Victor sat beside her, leaving space between them.
Anna continued, “Being nineteen explains things. It doesn’t erase them.”
“I know.”
“Dominic protected you and used that protection to control you.”
“Yes.”
“You trusted him.”
“Yes.”
“You also let him do the ugly parts because it was easier not to look.”
Victor turned toward her.
She held his gaze. “Both things can be true.”
The sentence echoed Mrs. Bell’s earlier admission.
Victor looked down at the expensive watch on his wrist. Lucia had given him a plastic watch when he was twelve. It had stopped working before he lost it. He had bought increasingly costly replacements as though price could repair time.
“What happens now?” Anna asked.
“Nina wants me to make a formal cooperation agreement.”
“Will you?”
May you like
“It exposes businesses Dominic didn’t touch.”
“Your businesses.”
