Chapter 2 - THE BLOODLINE CRACKS
The silence in the penthouse was suffocating.
Dominic did not lower his eyes.
His fingers remained rigid against the polished mahogany desk.
“Vincent,” he repeated.
The name sounded like poison on his tongue.
“Your own brother,” I said.
My voice did not waver.
Leo stepped forward from the wall, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood.
“That’s impossible,” Leo growled.
“Vincent was in Queens all night,” Leo insisted. “He checked the shipments.”
I looked at Leo.
Then I reached into my coat pocket.
I withdrew a slim leather keycard.
Gold lettering was embossed across the top: The North Pavilion, Kings Point.
“He wasn't in Queens,” I said.
I dropped the keycard onto the desk beside the gun.
It landed with a crisp, plastic snap.
Dominic looked down.
He recognized the crest.
Kings Point was Gabriel Bianchi’s private estate.
A fortress on Long Island Sound that no Russo man entered alive.
Except Vincent.
“He arrived at midnight,” I said quietly.
“He didn't use the front gates.”
Dominic leaned forward, his knuckles whitening against the wood.
“And you?” he whispered.
His voice was dangerously low.
“Why were you there, Mia?”
“Because Gabriel called my gallery yesterday afternoon,” I answered.
“He told me a private seller had brought in an authentic 18th-century Venetian ledger.”
Dominic’s breath caught.
“He wanted it appraised before wiring three million dollars.”
“You knew what that book was,” Dominic said.
“Of course I did.”
I took a step closer to the desk.
“I cataloged your grandfather’s collection four months ago.”
“I memorized every binding.”
“When Gabriel described the seal, I knew someone had broken into your safe.”
Dominic’s jaw twitched.
His gray eyes burned into mine.
He wasn't angry anymore.
The rage had hollowed out into something colder.
Something far more lethal.
“You went alone,” he said.
“If I had told you, you would have sent twenty men with rifles,” I said.
“You would have turned Kings Point into a cemetery.”
“And Vincent would have burned the evidence and vanished.”
Leo looked between us, his massive shoulders trembling with tension.
“Boss,” Leo whispered.
“Shut up, Leo,” Dominic said without looking at him.
Dominic walked around the massive desk.
He stopped two inches in front of me.
I could smell the stale espresso, the cold rain, and the faint metallic scent of gunpowder on his skin.
He raised his hand.
For a second, I thought he might touch my face.
Instead, his fingers caught a wet strand of hair plastered against my collarbone.
He tucked it gently behind my ear.
His touch was freezing.
“Did Gabriel touch you?” he asked.
The question was raw.
It had nothing to do with money.
It had nothing to do with territory.
“No,” I said.
“Did you sit in his room?”
“I sat in his library with four armed guards watching me.”
“And Vincent?” Dominic asked.
“Vincent was already counting his deposit in the study next door.”
Dominic closed his eyes for a single second.
When he opened them, the man I lived with was gone.
Only the don remained.
“Leo,” Dominic commanded.
“Sir?”
“Call the docks.”
“Check the harbor warehouse on 14th Street.”
Leo pulled out an encrypted satellite phone.
He punched three numbers.
He pressed the receiver to his ear.
Three seconds passed.
Then ten.
Leo lowered the phone, his face pale beneath his stubble.
“No answer, boss.”
“The line is dead.”
Dominic didn't curse.
He reached for the pistol on the desk.
He racked the slide with a clean, practiced motion.
“He’s cleaning house,” Dominic said.
Suddenly, the floor beneath our feet shuddered.
A deep, violent explosion shook the entire building.
Car alarms shrieked from forty stories below.
The floor-to-ceiling glass windows rattled against their steel frames.
May you like
The lights in the penthouse blinked twice.
Then every bulb went black.
