Chapter 8 - The Grave That Had Been Lying for Twenty-Two Years
Dominic's father was buried in Queens.
Antonio Romano.
Beloved husband.
Devoted father.
1958–2004.
Dominic had not visited the grave in seven years.
He told himself dead men did not care about flowers.
Clara knew better.
He did not visit because grief was one of the few rooms Dominic refused to enter.
They arrived just before sunset.
No entourage.
Leo remained near the car.
Clara stood several feet behind Dominic while he stared at the stone.
Twenty-two years.
A lifetime built after one death.
"I was nineteen," Dominic said.
Clara remained quiet.
"He collapsed during dinner."
"My mother screamed."
"I called the ambulance."
His hands stayed inside his coat pockets.
"Gabriel arrived before they took the body."
"He handled everything."
"Funeral."
"Business."
"Security."
"He taught me which men were loyal."
Dominic looked down at the grave.
"He taught me how to become my father."
Clara stepped beside him.
"And now?"
"Now I don't know what he taught me."
A car door closed behind them.
Leo approached.
"We found Gabriel."
Dominic turned.
"Where?"
"Not far."
Leo looked uncomfortable.
"He wants to meet."
"Where?"
Leo glanced toward the grave.
"Here."
Dominic's expression changed.
"He's already here?"
A figure appeared between rows of stones.
Gabriel Russo walked slowly toward them.
He looked older than Clara remembered.
Gray overcoat.
Silver hair.
No visible weapon.
Dominic did not move.
Gabriel stopped ten feet away.
"You look like Antonio when you're angry."
Dominic's voice was cold.
"Don't say his name."
Gabriel nodded.
"Fair."
"Explain the note."
Gabriel looked at Clara.
"She stays?"
Dominic did not look at her.
"She stays."
Something like approval passed through Gabriel's eyes.
"Good."
He took a breath.
"Your father was poisoned."
The world seemed to stop.
Dominic's expression did not change.
Clara saw his hand tighten.
"By whom?"
"I don't know."
"Wrong answer."
"It's the truth."
Gabriel looked toward Antonio's grave.
"He had been sick for three weeks."
"Headaches."
"Nausea."
"His hands trembled."
"Doctor called it stress."
"After he died, I found medication in his office that wasn't prescribed."
Dominic stepped forward.
"And you said nothing?"
"I had you."
Gabriel's voice sharpened.
"Nineteen years old."
"Your mother barely functioning."
"Six captains considering whether a boy could hold the organization."
"I had no proof."
"You buried it."
"I protected you."
Dominic laughed without humor.
Clara felt the echo of their argument.
Protection.
Secrets.
Control.
Gabriel continued.
"I spent twenty-two years looking."
"And?"
"Three months ago I found the physician."
Dominic froze.
"Alive?"
"Until last week."
Clara's instincts activated.
"Who killed him?"
Gabriel looked at her.
"Sebastian Marlowe."
Dominic's face hardened.
"Marlowe was twenty-eight when my father died."
"And working for Victor Sanz."
The name meant something to Dominic.
Clara saw it.
"Who is Victor Sanz?"
Dominic answered.
"My father's partner."
"Former partner."
Gabriel corrected.
"He disappeared six months after Antonio died."
Clara understood.
"Where?"
"South America."
"Everyone believed he was dead."
Gabriel shook his head.
"He isn't."
The cold seemed sharper.
Gabriel continued.
"Marlowe wasn't trying to take Dominic's organization for himself."
"He was clearing the way for Sanz."
Dominic stared.
"Why now?"
"Because Sanz is dying."
Gabriel's answer was immediate.
"Cancer."
"He wants to return before he dies."
"Return to what?"
Gabriel looked at Antonio's grave.
"What he believes Antonio stole from him."
Dominic's voice dropped.
"My father built this."
"No."
Gabriel looked at him.
"Antonio and Victor built it together."
The history unfolded slowly.
Antonio Romano and Victor Sanz had been partners in the 1980s.
Antonio controlled unions and construction.
Victor controlled smuggling routes.
Together they built the foundation Dominic inherited.
Then Antonio wanted legitimacy.
Victor wanted expansion.
They split.
Victor believed Antonio stole millions during the separation.
Antonio believed Victor was planning to kill him.
Neither trusted the other.
Then Antonio died.
Victor vanished.
Gabriel had always suspected a connection.
Now Marlowe's records proved it.
"Sanz financed Marlowe," Gabriel said.
"Every acquisition."
"Every expansion."
"For twenty years."
Clara looked at Dominic.
"Marlowe wasn't the top."
"No."
Gabriel's face darkened.
"He was the door."
Dominic turned away.
For twenty-two years he had built his identity around a version of his father's death that was false.
Clara knew facts could hurt more than bullets.
Bullets damaged flesh.
Facts rearranged memory.
"Where is Sanz?" she asked.
Gabriel looked toward Dominic.
"He wants to meet."
Dominic laughed.
"Everyone wants to meet."
"He specifically requested Clara."
Dominic turned instantly.
"No."
Clara sighed.
"We literally discussed this."
"Different situation."
"Same behavior."
Gabriel almost smiled.
Dominic glared at him.
"Don't."
Gabriel's amusement disappeared.
"Sanz understands what Marlowe failed to."
"What?"
Clara asked.
"Dominic isn't the organization anymore."
Gabriel looked at her.
"You both are."
The meeting was scheduled for the following evening at an abandoned church in Brooklyn.
Dominic objected for approximately six hours.
Clara ignored him for five.
Eventually they compromised.
Leo would position teams around the perimeter.
Clara and Dominic would enter together.
No separation.
No hidden plan.
No secrets.
At 8:00 p.m., they walked into the church.
Dust covered the pews.
Candles burned near the ruined altar.
Victor Sanz sat alone in the front row.
He was seventy-three.
Thin.
Ill.
An oxygen cannula rested beneath his nose.
He looked nothing like the monster Dominic had imagined.
That made him more dangerous.
"Antonio's boy."
Sanz smiled.
Dominic remained standing.
"I'm forty-one."
"Still his boy."
Sanz looked toward Clara.
"And you must be the secretary."
Clara sat beside Dominic.
"Former."
Sanz laughed.
"Marlowe made that mistake too."
Dominic's expression remained cold.
"You killed my father."
Sanz did not deny it.
"Yes."
The simplicity was brutal.
Dominic's hand moved.
Clara caught his wrist beneath the pew.
He stopped.
Sanz noticed.
"Interesting."
"Why?" Dominic asked.
"Your father betrayed me."
"So you poisoned him?"
"I gave him opportunities."
Sanz coughed.
"He refused."
Dominic stood.
Clara stood with him.
"You called us here to confess?"
"No."
Sanz smiled.
"I called you here because Marlowe failed."
"And I have one offer left."
Clara already knew.
"You want the organization."
"I want what Antonio stole."
"Which is?"
"Half."
Dominic laughed.
Sanz looked toward Clara.
"Convince him."
"No."
Sanz raised an eyebrow.
Clara continued.
"You've misunderstood me too."
"I don't moderate Dominic."
"I advise him."
"And my advice is no."
Sanz studied her.
Then smiled.
"Good."
He removed a small envelope.
"Then you'll need this."
Dominic did not touch it.
Clara did.
Inside was a bank account.
And a list.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Federal contractors.
Names accumulated over decades.
Sanz's network.
"Why give us this?" Clara asked.
"Because I'm dying."
Sanz looked toward Dominic.
"And because my son wants everything."
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
"You have a son?"
"Adrian."
Sanz smiled sadly.
"He doesn't want half."
"He wants all of it."
A sound came from the rear of the church.
Glass breaking.
Leo shouted through Dominic's earpiece.
"DOWN!"
Dominic pulled Clara behind a stone column.
Gunfire shattered the silence.
Sanz's bodyguard appeared from a side door.
More shots.
Candles fell.
Darkness swallowed half the church.
Dominic covered Clara with his body.
"Stay down."
"Where's Sanz?"
A shot answered.
Then another.
Silence.
When Leo's men reached the altar, Victor Sanz was dead.
One bullet through the chest.
The shooter had escaped through the bell tower.
But on the floor beside Sanz lay a phone.
Its screen was still illuminated.
One message.
FROM ADRIAN:
You should have stayed dead with Antonio.
Dominic read it.
Then looked at Clara.
A twenty-two-year-old war had just inherited a new generation.
May you like
And this time, the enemy was coming for both of them.
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