Chapter 4 - THE TRAITOR AT THE TABLE
Anthony Greco arrived at the mansion at 11:40 that night.
He entered through the front doors complaining about being dragged from bed.
Dominic sat at the long dining table.
Victor stood beside the fireplace.
Sophia and Lily had been taken upstairs under guard.
Anthony looked around.
“Something happen?”
Dominic pointed to the chair opposite him.
“Sit.”
Anthony obeyed.
“What’s going on?”
Dominic placed a photograph on the table.
Anthony’s eyes dropped to it.
The smallest reaction betrayed him.
A tightening around the mouth.
A fraction too long before he looked up.
Dominic almost felt disappointed.
“So,” Anthony said, “you found that.”
“How long?”
Anthony leaned back.
No denial.
That somehow made it worse.
“Dominic—”
“How long?”
“Eight months.”
Victor closed his eyes briefly.
Dominic’s voice remained steady.
“How much?”
Anthony laughed.
“You think it was money?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Theodore offered me something you never did.”
“What?”
“A way out.”
Dominic frowned.
Anthony spread his hands.
“You think everyone wants to die inside the Moretti machine? My father served yours. Then I served you. Forty years between us, Dominic. Forty years of family dinners interrupted by phone calls because somebody got shot or robbed or disappeared.”
“You could have left.”
Anthony’s laugh sharpened.
“No. People leave jobs. They don’t leave families like ours.”
Dominic heard his own father’s philosophy in those words.
It disgusted him.
Anthony leaned forward.
“Theodore said he’d dismantle you piece by piece. Said when it was finished, the old structure would be gone.”
“And you believed him?”
“I believed I had no future standing beside you.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
Anthony smiled sadly.
“You don’t trust anyone. You don’t love anyone. You don’t build anything except walls and businesses. What exactly did you expect loyalty to attach itself to?”
Victor stepped forward.
“That is enough.”
Dominic lifted one hand.
Victor stopped.
Anthony’s words hurt because some were true.
Before Lily’s blanket, Dominic might even have agreed.
Then movement sounded above them.
A child crying.
Sophia appeared at the top of the staircase.
“Dominic!”
She ran down holding Lily.
The toddler’s face was flushed.
“She has a fever.”
Every instinct in Dominic changed direction.
He rose instantly.
“How high?”
“One hundred and three.”
“Doctor’s coming.”
“I already called her pediatrician.”
“Mine will be faster.”
Anthony stared.
Dominic caught the look.
Something like realization passed across the traitor’s face.
Then the front windows exploded.
Victor shouted.
Dominic crossed the room in two strides, wrapped both Sophia and Lily against his body, and drove them behind a marble column.
Gunfire ripped through the dining room.
Crystal shattered.
Wood splintered.
Anthony dove beneath the table.
Security men rushed from the hallway.
“East lawn!” someone shouted.
Dominic covered Lily’s head with his hand.
The child screamed against Sophia’s chest.
“It’s okay,” Sophia whispered desperately. “Baby, Mommy’s here.”
Another burst shattered the chandelier.
Dominic reached for the weapon beneath his jacket.
Sophia grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t leave.”
He looked at her.
Fear filled her eyes.
Not fear for herself.
For him.
Nobody had said those words to Dominic in years.
Don’t leave.
He stayed.
Seconds later, Moretti security returned fire from outside.
The shooting stopped.
Victor’s radio crackled.
“Two vehicles leaving east service road.”
Dominic turned toward Anthony.
The chair where he had been sitting was empty.
“Greco!”
Victor ran toward the kitchen.
Too late.
The rear door stood open.
Anthony had escaped during the attack.
Dominic swore.
Then Lily made a small sound.
His anger vanished.
She was shivering.
“Give her to me.”
Sophia hesitated.
“Why?”
“Because you’re shaking worse than she is.”
Sophia looked down.
Her hands were trembling violently.
Dominic carefully took Lily.
The toddler curled against his chest as though she had done it a hundred times.
Her face pressed beneath his chin.
He carried her upstairs.
Sophia followed.
The private physician arrived fifteen minutes later.
The diagnosis was fortunately ordinary: a viral infection worsened by exhaustion and stress.
“She needs fluids, fever medication, and rest,” the doctor explained.
Sophia sat beside the bed.
Dominic remained near the door.
When the doctor left, Sophia whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying.”
Dominic looked away.
“You asked.”
“I know.”
Silence settled.
Then Lily stirred.
“Mr. Dominic?”
He approached the bed.
Her eyes barely opened.
“Cold?”
“No.”
“You need blanket?”
The memory nearly broke him again.
“I’m fine.”
Lily reached weakly toward him.
Dominic took her hand.
“You’re sad,” she whispered.
Sophia looked at him.
Dominic said, “Go to sleep.”
“Mommy says sad people need hugs.”
Before he could respond, Lily tugged on his fingers.
Dominic sat on the edge of the mattress.
The toddler lifted both arms.
He froze.
Sophia opened her mouth.
“You don’t have to—”
Dominic leaned forward.
Lily wrapped her arms around his neck.
It was barely a hug.
She had almost no strength.
Yet Dominic closed his eyes.
His hand settled gently against the child’s back.
Sophia watched him.
Something in her expression shifted.
After Lily fell asleep again, Dominic walked into the hallway.
Victor waited there.
“We caught one shooter.”
“Who?”
“Mercer soldier. Name’s Daniel Voss.”
“Talked?”
“Enough.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“The attack was a distraction. They expected Greco to get out.”
“So Greco knew.”
“Yes.”
Victor lowered his voice.
“And Theodore has another objective.”
“The ledger.”
Victor nodded.
“He believes Sophia gave it to you.”
Dominic looked toward the bedroom door.
“She didn’t.”
“I know.”
“Where is it?”
Victor hesitated.
“That is between you and her.”
Dominic entered the room again.
Sophia sat beside Lily.
He closed the door.
“Tell me where the ledger is.”
She looked up.
“Dominic—”
“No more secrets.”
Sophia remained silent for several seconds.
Then she stood and walked toward Lily’s small pink backpack.
From the bottom compartment she removed a plastic horse.
Dominic frowned.
Sophia twisted the horse at its middle.
A seam opened.
Inside was a tiny flash drive.
Dominic stared.
“You hid evidence against one of New York’s most dangerous men inside a plastic horse?”
“Nobody steals a toddler’s horse.”
Despite everything, Dominic almost smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
Sophia handed him the drive.
“My father killed people to protect what’s on this.”
Dominic took it.
“Then we make sure he can never hurt you again.”
Sophia’s eyes searched his.
“How?”
Dominic looked toward sleeping Lily.
“By doing something my father would have called unforgivable.”
May you like
“What?”
“Trusting somebody.”
