Chapter 5 - The Traitor InsideBy 2:00 in the morning, nobody was allowed to leave the estate.
Not the guards.
Not the kitchen staff.
Not the drivers.
Not the cleaning crew who had arrived that evening.
Twenty-three people were gathered in the large formal dining room under the watch of Lorenzo’s men.
Nora sat in the library with ice pressed against her ribs.
She hated being told to stay there.
She hated even more that she was too exhausted to argue.
Thomas stood near the door.
“You should sleep.”
“That’s becoming everyone’s favorite sentence.”
“Doctor’s recommendation.”
“I’ve had enough men making decisions for me.”
Thomas nodded.
“Fair.”
Nora studied him.
He was older than Lorenzo.
Late forties, maybe fifty.
The broken nose made him look permanently irritated.
But he had been the first person to reach her outside.
“You shot him.”
“The man who grabbed you?”
“Yes.”
“He was reaching inside his coat.”
“Was he armed?”
“Yes.”
Nora looked down.
Thomas seemed to understand the question beneath the question.
“You’re alive because you fought long enough for us to reach you.”
She swallowed.
“I almost got taken because I left the patio.”
“You almost got taken because someone betrayed the house.”
Thomas’s voice remained level.
“Do not volunteer to carry the traitor’s guilt.”
The words struck her unexpectedly.
Lorenzo entered before she could answer.
His jacket was gone.
There was blood on the cuff of his black shirt.
Nora looked at it.
“Yours?”
“No.”
Thomas left without needing instruction.
Lorenzo shut the door.
Nora watched him approach.
“Did you kill someone?”
“Yes.”
The direct answer made her blink.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
His mouth tightened.
“Because he raised a weapon.”
Nora lowered the ice.
“You really don’t lie, do you?”
“When possible.”
“That wasn’t exactly what I asked.”
“No.”
For several seconds, they watched each other.
“What happened to Greg?”
Nora asked.
“Alive.”
“Where?”
“One of my physicians is treating him.”
“At this house?”
“No.”
Relief arrived before Nora could prevent it.
Lorenzo noticed.
“You can care whether he lives without wanting him back.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Nora did not answer.
Lorenzo crossed to the fireplace.
He poured himself a drink from the bar cart but did not consume it.
“We found the breach.”
“That fast?”
“The gate log showed the code.”
He looked at her.
“It belonged to one of my guards.”
“Who?”
“Evan Cole.”
Nora searched her memory.
“I don’t know him.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“What happens to him?”
“We find out why.”
The way Lorenzo said it made Nora’s stomach tighten.
“You’re going to torture him.”
Lorenzo turned.
“That word has become too convenient.”
“What would you call it?”
“Interrogation.”
“With violence?”
“If necessary.”
“That’s torture.”
Lorenzo took one drink.
“You prefer the police?”
“Yes.”
“Then call them.”
Nora stared.
He removed the clean phone from his pocket and placed it on the table.
“Tell them everything.”
She looked at the device.
“The restaurant.”
Lorenzo continued.
“Greg.”
“The Bertinellis.”
“My men.”
“The weapons in this house.”
“Tell them I am holding a suspect downstairs and intend to obtain information before the people hunting you try again.”
Nora’s hand did not move toward the phone.
“You know I can’t.”
“You can.”
“They’d arrest you.”
“Possibly.”
“And the Bertinellis?”
“Possibly.”
“And then?”
Lorenzo shrugged.
“You receive police protection for several hours.”
He met her eyes.
“Maybe days.”
Nora hated him for making the weakness of that option so obvious.
“You built a world where the legal choice is the dangerous one.”
“No.”
Lorenzo’s expression became colder.
“I inherited a world where law and danger have never been the same thing.”
Something in that sentence carried history.
Nora remembered his scarred knuckles.
The faded tattoo.
The hollow recognition in his eyes.
“You keep saying you inherited this.”
His gaze sharpened.
“I did not say that.”
“You just did.”
Lorenzo looked toward the fire.
Nora slowly stood.
Her ribs hurt, but not enough to stop her.
“What happened to your family?”
He said nothing.
“Your father?”
Silence.
“Your mother?”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
“Stop.”
Nora did.
Not because of fear.
Because the word contained something she recognized.
A boundary.
Real boundaries sounded different from threats.
She returned to the sofa.
“Okay.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
Her compliance seemed to surprise him.
“You can ask questions.”
Nora pressed the ice back against her side.
“I can refuse answers.”
“That’s how conversations usually work.”
A strange almost-smile touched his mouth.
Gone immediately.
A knock came at the door.
Vincent entered.
“We have him.”
Lorenzo placed his untouched glass down.
“Talking?”
“Not yet.”
He looked at Nora.
Then back to Lorenzo.
“There’s something else.”
Lorenzo waited.
“Cole had nineteen thousand dollars in cash inside his vehicle.”
“Recent?”
“Bank straps from yesterday.”
Nora’s stomach tightened.
“Someone paid him.”
“Yes.”
Vincent nodded.
“And we found a photograph on his phone.”
He handed Lorenzo a device.
Lorenzo’s expression changed.
Nora stood again.
“What?”
Neither answered.
She walked closer.
Lorenzo angled the screen away.
“Don’t.”
Nora’s anger flared.
“If this is about me, I get to know.”
“Nora.”
“No.”
She held out her hand.
“You want me trapped here because people are trying to reach me.”
“Fine.”
“Then stop deciding what information I can handle.”
Vincent looked between them.
Lorenzo handed her the phone.
The photograph showed a woman leaving a grocery store.
Blond hair.
Red jacket.
Two children walking beside her.
Nora stopped breathing.
“Hannah.”
The room disappeared.
She zoomed in.
Her sister.
Her niece.
Her nephew.
The photograph had been taken from across the parking lot.
“No.”
Nora whispered.
Lorenzo took the phone before her shaking hand dropped it.
“When?”
He asked Vincent.
“Metadata says yesterday afternoon.”
“Where?”
“Outside Columbus.”
Nora’s legs weakened.
“Hannah lives outside Columbus.”
Lorenzo caught her elbow.
She recoiled automatically.
He released her immediately.
“My sister.”
Nora’s voice broke.
“They know where she is.”
“Yes.”
“Because Greg told them.”
“Yes.”
“I need to call her.”
Lorenzo reached for the clean phone.
Nora grabbed it.
Hannah answered on the second ring.
“Nora?”
“Take the kids.”
Her voice came too quickly.
“What?”
“Take the kids and leave the house.”
“Nora, what happened?”
“Now.”
Lorenzo watched her.
“Go to a hotel.”
Nora continued.
“Somewhere with cameras.”
“Do not tell anyone where.”
“Nora, you’re scaring me.”
“I know.”
Tears blurred her vision.
“I’m sorry.”
“Is this Greg?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Nora looked at Lorenzo.
His face was unreadable.
“People connected to him.”
Hannah became very quiet.
“What did he do?”
“He owed money.”
“Oh my God.”
“Listen to me.”
Nora forced herself to breathe.
“Pack enough for two days.”
“Take Mark and the kids.”
“Leave.”
“Don’t go to Mom’s.”
“Don’t go to any family.”
“Should I call the police?”
Nora looked at Lorenzo.
He shook his head once.
“No.”
She hated herself for obeying.
“Not yet.”
“Nora—”
“Please.”
Silence.
Then Hannah said, “Okay.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“Call me when you’re moving.”
The connection ended.
Nora handed the phone back.
Her hands shook violently.
Lorenzo turned to Vincent.
“Send Thomas.”
Nora stared.
“What?”
“Thomas leaves within ten minutes.”
“For Ohio?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t just send armed men to my sister.”
“I’m sending one.”
Lorenzo’s voice remained controlled.
“He will take two additional vehicles and four men who will remain out of sight.”
“No.”
“Nora.”
“You don’t get to invade her life.”
“They already did.”
The words silenced her.
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“Your sister has two children.”
His voice lowered.
“Dante knows where she shops.”
“This is no longer about whether my methods offend you.”
Nora’s eyes burned.
“It is about whether they remain alive long enough for you to hate me later.”
She looked away.
The truth tasted like defeat.
“Will Thomas scare them?”
“No.”
“Will he tell her who you are?”
“No.”
“Will he force her anywhere?”
“No.”
Nora looked at him.
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
“Your word?”
Lorenzo’s face changed slightly.
“My word.”
Nora nodded.
“Send him.”
Vincent left immediately.
Nora remained standing.
All the strength drained out of her at once.
She sat.
Lorenzo stayed nearby.
Not touching.
Not offering comfort she had not requested.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Nora stared into the fire.
“Greg used my sister.”
“Yes.”
“He knew what people might do.”
“Yes.”
“He gave them information anyway.”
“Yes.”
She covered her face.
“I spent two years protecting him.”
Lorenzo remained silent.
“I lied for him.”
Her shoulders shook.
“I stopped seeing friends because he hated them.”
“I sent him money when he lost jobs.”
“I paid his car insurance.”
“I told myself he was stressed.”
“I told myself his father hit him.”
“I told myself he loved me.”
Her voice collapsed.
“And when strangers tortured him, the first thing he did was hand them the one person I love enough to run into a fire for.”
Lorenzo’s expression darkened.
Nora dropped her hands.
“What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing.”
She almost laughed.
“That’s clearly not true.”
Lorenzo crouched in front of her.
The movement startled her more than if he had towered above.
His eyes were level with hers.
“Greg’s failure to love correctly is not evidence that you were foolish to love.”
Nora stared at him.
“That sounded almost human.”
“Do not spread rumors.”
A wet laugh escaped her.
It hurt.
She winced.
Lorenzo’s gaze dropped toward her ribs.
“You need medication.”
“I need my life back.”
His face became serious.
“You will.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
Nora’s laughter disappeared.
“That isn’t good enough anymore.”
Lorenzo waited.
She sat straighter.
“I want to help.”
“No.”
“I’m an accountant.”
“This is not an audit.”
“You said the Bertinellis operate loan-sharking.”
“Yes.”
“That means records.”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed.
“Payments.”
“Debts.”
“Names.”
“Cash movement.”
Nora continued.
“If Dante is trying to take control from Carlo, money matters.”
Vincent had said Cole possessed nineteen thousand dollars in new cash.
Someone had paid him.
Maybe there were other payments.
Other betrayals.
“You have people who hurt other people.”
Nora’s voice became steadier.
“I know numbers.”
Lorenzo stood.
“No.”
“You said nothing in your world is free.”
Her gaze hardened.
“You want compensation for protecting me?”
He went still.
“Fine.”
Nora pointed toward the door.
“Put me to work.”
Lorenzo stared at her for a long time.
Something unreadable passed through his eyes.
“You have no idea what you’re volunteering to see.”
“I already know what violence looks like.”
“This is different.”
“So was today.”
She stood.
“I’m done being the thing everyone moves around.”
A pause.
“I want to know why people are risking their lives for sixty thousand dollars.”
Lorenzo studied her.
Then he reached into his pocket.
Removed a key.
He set it on the table.
“What is that?”
Nora asked.
“My downstairs office.”
Her heartbeat changed.
“Tomorrow morning.”
He stepped back.
“Eight o’clock.”
Nora looked at the key.
“Does that mean yes?”
“It means you wanted a choice.”
Lorenzo turned toward the door.
“Now you have one.”
The next morning, Nora discovered that Lorenzo Costa’s criminal empire had spreadsheets.
Hundreds of them.
She almost laughed.
The private office beneath the estate was nothing like the elegant room above Le Clovis.
No first-edition books.
No Scotch.
No decorative furniture.
Only steel desks, monitors, locked filing cabinets, and three men who stared at Nora as if Lorenzo had brought a stray animal into a bank vault.
Vincent stood behind her.
“You wanted records.”
Nora surveyed the screens.
“This is your accounting system?”
“Part of it.”
“It’s terrible.”
Vincent blinked.
One of the men looked offended.
Lorenzo, standing near the central desk, lifted an eyebrow.
Nora pulled out a chair.
“Who designed these expense categories?”
Silence.
“This is criminal.”
Vincent coughed.
Lorenzo stared at him.
Nora realized what she had said.
For the first time, Vincent laughed.
A deep, unexpected sound.
Even Lorenzo’s mouth moved slightly.
Nora sat.
“Give me the Bertinelli transactions.”
A man handed her a laptop.
Three hours later, nobody was laughing.
Nora leaned closer to the screen.
“Here.”
Lorenzo stood behind her.
“What?”
“These transfers.”
She pointed.
“Small amounts.”
“Seven thousand.”
“Nine.”
“Twelve.”
“Different companies.”
“But the timing is wrong.”
Lorenzo’s eyes sharpened.
“Explain.”
“Every transfer happens within forty-eight hours of one of your companies winning a contract the Bertinellis also bid on.”
Vincent moved closer.
Nora continued.
“It looks like ordinary competitor spending.”
“But it isn’t.”
She opened another file.
“Because every company receiving the money was incorporated within the last six months.”
Lorenzo became very still.
“Shell companies.”
“Yes.”
“Controlled by whom?”
Nora searched.
“Not listed.”
Vincent grabbed his phone.
“I’ll have names in twenty minutes.”
Nora opened the next record.
Then stopped.
One payment was different.
Nineteen thousand dollars.
Exact.
The amount found in Evan Cole’s car.
“Lorenzo.”
He looked down.
Nora pointed toward the screen.
The payment had originated from a company called Bellweather Consulting.
Lorenzo’s face emptied of emotion.
Vincent returned to the desk.
“What?”
Lorenzo turned the monitor.
Vincent saw the company name.
For the first time since Nora had met him, the underboss looked afraid.
Nora noticed.
“Who owns Bellweather?”
Neither man spoke.
Nora looked between them.
“Who?”
May you like
Lorenzo answered.
“My uncle.”
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