Chapter 9 - A DEAD MAN WALKS IN
At eight o'clock, forty-seven powerful men sat inside the Grand Bellagio ballroom.
Politicians had eaten there.
Judges had danced there.
Three governors had raised campaign money there.
That night, it belonged to criminals.
My family.
Vincent sat at the head of the table.
White hair.
Perfect suit.
Grandfatherly smile.
Nobody seeing him for the first time would understand what he was capable of.
I did now.
“Adrian.”
He stood.
“You came.”
“You invited me.”
His eyes moved behind me.
I came alone.
At least, that's what he thought.
Luca waited outside.
Isabella waited with him.
Beatrice remained under hospital security.
Vincent gestured toward my chair.
“Sit.”
I didn't.
“Where’s Lorenzo?”
He sighed.
“Missing.”
“You mean hiding.”
“Possibly.”
“From who?”
“You.”
People shifted around the table.
Vincent continued.
“Lorenzo claims you shot him without cause.”
I laughed.
Several captains looked uncomfortable.
“Did he mention kidnapping my employee?”
“He says Beatrice Gallagher stole from you and manipulated you.”
“Interesting.”
“He also says you've become unstable.”
There it was.
Vincent wasn't trying to kill me tonight.
He was trying to remove me.
Cleaner.
The council could strip a boss of authority if enough captains believed he had become reckless.
Vincent stood.
“We've lost money this week.”
I looked around.
“How tragic.”
“Operations stopped.”
“Good.”
Murmurs.
Vincent frowned.
“Good?”
“Yes.”
“You froze fourteen accounts.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because they belong to shell companies stealing from us.”
Silence.
Vincent’s face remained calm.
“Proof?”
“I have some.”
That was a lie.
I had enough to suspect.
Not enough to prove.
Vincent knew it.
He smiled.
“This is grief.”
“What?”
“You never recovered from Luca.”
My body went still.
Vincent softened his voice.
“You blame yourself.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“And now this maid has filled your head with fantasies.”
“Be careful.”
“I loved Luca too.”
That almost ended the meeting violently.
Instead, I smiled.
“You loved him?”
“Like my own son.”
“Funny.”
A voice came from behind the ballroom doors.
“Because you tried pretty hard to kill me.”
The doors opened.
Luca walked in.
Silence fell so completely I heard someone drop a glass.
Vincent's face changed.
For the first time in my life, I saw fear there.
Real fear.
Luca walked toward the table.
Some men crossed themselves.
Others stood.
One whispered, “Holy Christ.”
Vincent gripped the chair.
“No.”
Luca smiled.
“Miss me?”
I watched forty-seven men realize a ghost had returned.
Luca stopped three feet from Vincent.
“Twelve years,” he said.
Vincent recovered quickly.
“Anyone can grow a beard.”
Luca rolled up his sleeve.
On his forearm was the burn scar shaped like a crooked V.
A scar he got at thirteen when we stole our father's car and crashed into a fence.
Every old captain knew it.
Luca looked around the room.
“My name is Luca Salvatore Vale.”
Then he looked at Vincent.
“And I remember who tried to kill me.”
Vincent reached inside his jacket.
Every gun in the room came up.
Mine included.
Luca didn't move.
Vincent slowly pulled out—
A phone.
May you like
He smiled.
“If I don't make one call in the next sixty seconds, Isabella dies.”
