Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO TAUGHT VINCENT TO DISTRUST HIS BROTHER
Samuel Vieri had been at every major moment of Vincent’s life.
His first funeral.
His first arrest.
His father’s burial.
His rise to leadership.
His marriage that lasted eleven months before both sides admitted they had loved power more than each other.
Samuel had stood beside Vincent through all of it.
Which meant if Marco had been telling the truth, the betrayal had never come from outside the family.
It had been sitting at Vincent’s table.
Vincent stared across his study at Tony.
“Where is Samuel?”
“His housekeeper says he left for Boston yesterday.”
“Private plane?”
“No record.”
“Train?”
“Nothing.”
“He knew.”
Tony nodded.
“That’s what it looks like.”
Vincent turned toward the fireplace.
Sophia was asleep upstairs with one of Vincent’s older housekeepers sitting outside the door.
His Doberman, Caesar, had refused to leave her hallway.
Vincent did not know whether that made him feel safer or worse.
“Find Marco.”
Tony hesitated.
“Boss.”
Vincent looked at him.
“If Samuel arranged all of this fifteen years ago, Marco may not trust us.”
“He shouldn’t.”
Tony said nothing.
Vincent poured two drinks, then pushed one across the desk.
“I ordered his death.”
“You believed he was selling us out.”
“I believed what I wanted to believe.”
“That’s not fair.”
Vincent laughed without humor.
“Fair?”
He looked at his lieutenant.
“Marco stood in this house and told me somebody was setting him up. He said the bank records were wrong. Said the recording had been cut. Said the warehouse meeting was with an informant.”
Tony listened.
“I gave him fifteen minutes to convince me.”
“What happened?”
“He spent fourteen of them trying to protect me.”
Tony frowned.
“Protect you from what?”
“Samuel.”
The answer surprised even Vincent as he said it aloud.
Memory had a way of changing once lies were removed from around it.
Marco had not begged for his life.
He had said:
Vinny, ask yourself who benefits if I’m gone.
Vincent had thought Marco meant rival families.
Now he knew better.
At six the next morning, one of Tony’s men called.
They found Michael Castle’s truck abandoned near a storage facility in Queens.
Blood on the driver’s seat.
No body.
Inside the storage unit were photographs of Samuel meeting with people Vincent recognized.
Politicians.
Union officials.
Two rival crime figures.
And one federal investigator who had died in what was ruled a robbery twelve years earlier.
Marco had been building a case.
For years.
Vincent stood in the unit surrounded by boxes.
“He was hunting Samuel.”
Tony opened a notebook.
“No.”
Vincent looked at him.
Tony turned the notebook around.
The pages contained names.
Dates.
Bank accounts.
And beside several entries:
VINCENT DOES NOT KNOW.
Tony exhaled.
“He was protecting you.”
Vincent looked away.
That hurt more than hatred would have.
They found a voice recorder beneath an old workbench.
Only one recent file remained.
Marco’s voice filled the small room.
“If this gets to Vincent, then I failed to keep Sophia out of it.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Marco continued.
“Samuel knows I’m alive. I don’t know how. Maybe the hospital record. Maybe someone followed me.”
Static.
“Vincent, if you’re hearing this, I know you probably still hate me.”
Vincent whispered, “No.”
“I spent fifteen years hating you too.”
That felt deserved.
“But hate gets heavy when you carry it long enough.”
Vincent’s throat tightened.
“Samuel framed me because I discovered he was moving money and information behind your father’s back. After your father died, Samuel needed you to inherit quickly. You were young. Angry. Easy to control.”
Vincent clenched his jaw.
The recording continued.
“I survived the hit because one of the men you sent was Joey Barone.”
Vincent’s eyes widened.
Joey.
Dead now.
A man who had loved Marco like family.
“He couldn’t pull the trigger,” Marco said. “He burned the car, faked the dental report, and put me on a bus with cash and a new name.”
Tony muttered, “Son of a…”
“Joey told me never to contact you. Said Samuel was watching everyone.”
Marco’s voice softened.
“I listened because I believed you wanted me dead enough to try again.”
Vincent stared at the concrete floor.
There it was.
The consequence of his decision.
Not death.
Worse.
Fifteen stolen years.
“I married Elena eight years later. She knew everything. Sophia came after that.”
A pause.
“Elena wanted me to forgive you.”
Vincent swallowed.
“She said a man who regrets something for fifteen years isn’t the same man who did it.”
Vincent could barely breathe.
Marco continued.
“I wasn’t ready.”
The recording became rough.
“But Samuel found me before I was ready.”
Then:
“If something happens to me, protect Sophia.”
The file ended.
Vincent stood motionless.
Tony looked toward him.
“Boss?”
Vincent wiped a hand over his face.
“We find him.”
They searched all day.
At 4:23 p.m., Sophia called Vincent from the estate using the secured phone he had given her.
“Mr. Vincent?”
Her voice was trembling.
“What happened?”
“There’s a man outside.”
Vincent stood.
“What man?”
“He’s by the trees.”
His pulse exploded.
“Where are the guards?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sophia, listen to me. Go into the bathroom. Lock the door.”
“But Caesar is barking.”
“Take Caesar with you.”
“He won’t come.”
Vincent was already running toward the car.
“Sophia!”
Then she whispered:
“The man has Daddy’s jacket.”
The call disconnected.
Vincent drove like every mile between him and the estate was a personal insult.
When he arrived, Caesar was standing in the driveway barking toward the woods.
One guard lay unconscious near the side gate.
The house was locked.
Vincent ran upstairs.
“Sophia!”
No answer.
The bathroom door was open.
Empty.
On the floor lay the phone.
And Marco’s old leather jacket.
Vincent picked it up.
Something was stuffed inside the pocket.
A photograph.
Sophia sitting in a chair.
Terrified.
Behind her stood Samuel Vieri.
On the back, a message:
BRING MARCO’S EVIDENCE TO THE OLD DOCKS.
COME ALONE.
Then one final sentence.
THIS TIME, YOUR BROTHER DIES WHERE YOU CAN WATCH.
Vincent’s hand began shaking.
Tony appeared behind him.
“Boss?”
Vincent slowly turned.
“They have Sophia.”
Tony’s expression darkened.
“And Marco?”
Vincent stared at the photograph.
“He’s alive.”
“How do you know?”
May you like
“Because Samuel said my brother dies tonight.”
---
