Chapter 5 - The Ghosts of Little Italy|
By noon, the rain had returned, slicking the slate roofs of the estate in dark iron hues.
Dante sat in the subterranean wine cellar beneath the kitchen—a room built with three-foot-thick reinforced concrete walls where no radio frequency or electronic bug could penetrate.
Mateo sat across from him on a wooden crate, a thick leather folder open across his knees.
“She’s clean on paper, Boss,” Mateo said, flipping through pages of bank statements and forged Italian birth certificates. “Isabella Rossi. Supposedly the daughter of a retired textile merchant from Florence. But three hours ago, my contact in Milan found an old church registry.”
“And?” Dante asked, lighting a clove cigarette.
“Her real name is Isabella Russo,” Mateo revealed, his voice grim. “She is Don Carmine Russo’s illegitimate daughter from his second mistress in Palermo. He kept her hidden in Europe for twenty years specifically for an operation like this.”
Dante closed his eyes for a brief moment. The image of his brother Marco’s blood spilling onto the rain-slicked pavement outside the restaurant seven years ago flashed behind his eyelids.
“It wasn't a random hit,” Dante whispered.
“No,” Mateo agreed quietly. “Seven years ago, Marco discovered that Carmine Russo was secretly bribing the maritime port commissioners. Marco was going to bring the proof to the commission. They executed him to keep the ports open.”
“And now,” Dante said, opening his eyes, “Carmine wants the entire empire. He sent his daughter to steal the family seal so he could forge the property transfers at First National Bank.”
“What are your orders, Boss?” Mateo asked, his hand drifting naturally toward the shoulder holster beneath his custom suit jacket. “We can make her disappear tonight. A quiet drive to the docks.”
Dante blew a long plume of gray smoke toward the stone ceiling.
“No,” Dante said coldly. “If Isabella disappears, Carmine knows the operation failed. He’ll retreat into his compound in Long Island, destroy the paper trails, and hide behind his legal team.”
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“Then what do we do?”
“We let her think she succeeded,” Dante said, a dark, terrifying glint appearing in his gray eyes. “We let her deliver the fake seal to her father.”
