Chapter 5 - A Traitor Beneath the Russo RoofAt nine the next morning, every senior member of the Russo organization sat around the conference table.
Norah entered last.
She wore a dark suit.
Not because Dominic had chosen it.
Not because a personal shopper had sent it.
Because Norah had bought it herself.
She placed the threatening card in the center of the table.
Nobody spoke.
Dominic sat at the head.
Norah took the chair beside him.
Leo stood near the door.
“The person who fired that bullet,” Dominic said, “knew where Norah's desk was positioned.”
Several men shifted.
“The office layout changed three weeks ago. That information never left this house.”
His voice remained calm.
“Which means one of you helped them.”
Norah watched faces.
Fear was useful.
But guilt looked different.
Guilt calculated.
Her attention settled on Salvatore Greco.
Sixty-two.
Old-school capo.
He had served Dominic's father.
He hated Norah's restructuring proposals.
He also refused to look at the card.
Interesting.
Dominic continued.
“You have twenty-four hours to tell me who.”
Greco leaned forward.
“Maybe you're looking at this wrong.”
Dominic's eyes moved toward him.
“How?”
“The woman has enemies now.”
“The woman has a name.”
Greco smiled thinly.
“With respect, Dominic, six months ago she was changing diapers.”
Norah spoke.
“I still change diapers.”
Several men looked at her.
“Usually Isabella's. Occasionally Dominic's accountants.”
Leo coughed to hide a laugh.
Greco did not.
“This isn't a boardroom game, Mrs.—”
He stopped.
Norah noticed.
Mrs.
She and Dominic were not married.
Greco had nearly said Russo.
Why?
“You were saying?” Norah asked.
“This organization survived because men respected tradition.”
“No,” Norah said. “It survived because men were afraid of Dominic.”
Greco's expression tightened.
“Fear has an expiration date.”
“So does tradition.”
Dominic watched silently.
Norah continued.
“The legitimate companies made forty-three percent more profit last quarter than the illegal operations.”
“That isn't the point.”
“It is exactly the point.”
“The Russo name means something.”
Norah leaned forward.
“It means my daughters sleep behind bulletproof glass.”
Silence.
“I'd like it to mean something else before they're old enough to understand why.”
Greco stood.
Dominic's hand moved slightly.
Every guard in the room reacted.
Greco noticed.
He sat again.
“You've changed him,” he told Norah.
“No.”
She glanced at Dominic.
“I reminded him that surviving isn't the same as living.”
The meeting ended without a confession.
That afternoon, Norah returned to the nursery.
Isabella was asleep.
Lily sat on the carpet building a city from wooden blocks.
“This is your office,” Lily said.
She pointed toward a tiny structure.
“And this is Dad's.”
“Why is mine bigger?”
“Because you talk more.”
Norah laughed.
The door opened.
Dominic entered.
He locked it behind him.
Norah's smile disappeared.
“What?”
“We found something.”
He handed her a phone.
Security footage.
Greco entering the north service corridor three nights before the shooting.
He carried a folder.
Five minutes later, he exited without it.
“That corridor connects to the old groundskeeper's cottage,” Norah said.
Dominic nodded.
“The cottage has an external maintenance line.”
“Unmonitored?”
“It shouldn't be.”
“But?”
“Someone disabled the logging software.”
Norah looked toward Lily.
Dominic understood.
“Maria.”
The housekeeper appeared minutes later and took both children upstairs.
When they were alone, Norah returned the phone.
“You think it's Greco.”
“I know it's Greco.”
“Then why is he still alive?”
Dominic's expression was unreadable.
“Because I want to know who else is involved.”
For three days, they waited.
Greco believed he remained unsuspected.
Dominic fed him false information.
A shipment.
A route.
A meeting.
The trap worked.
At midnight on Friday, three vehicles intercepted the fake Russo convoy.
Dominic's men surrounded them.
Nobody fired.
The attackers surrendered.
One carried a phone.
Inside were messages from Greco.
But another name appeared.
Leo Romano.
Norah stared at the screen.
“No.”
Dominic's face became stone.
Leo had been with him for fifteen years.
His underboss.
His closest friend.
The man who had protected Lily after her mother's death.
Dominic read the messages again.
“I'll kill him.”
Norah caught his arm.
“Wait.”
“There is nothing to wait for.”
“The messages could be planted.”
“They came from his number.”
“Then ask him.”
Dominic looked at her as though the suggestion were absurd.
“You don't ask a traitor whether he's betraying you.”
“You do if he's your best friend.”
That sentence hit harder than Norah expected.
Dominic looked away.
“Friendship isn't relevant.”
“Then why do you look like someone just stabbed you?”
He said nothing.
They found Leo in the security room.
Dominic placed the phone on the desk.
Leo read the messages.
His face changed.
“That's not me.”
Dominic drew his pistol.
Norah's heart slammed.
Leo raised both hands.
“Dominic.”
“Give me one reason.”
“Because I haven't called that number in eleven months.”
“You expect me to believe—”
“Check the carrier records.”
Norah stepped between them.
Dominic's eyes flashed.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Norah.”
“If he's lying, you can kill him in five minutes.”
Leo looked offended.
“Thank you?”
Norah ignored him.
“If he's telling the truth and you shoot him now, Greco wins.”
Dominic lowered the gun.
Barely.
The carrier records proved Leo's claim.
His number had been cloned.
Greco had manufactured evidence against him.
But the discovery created another question.
Why?
They found the answer beneath Greco's wine cellar.
Not drugs.
Not guns.
Documents.
Hundreds of them.
Bank records.
Property deeds.
Photographs.
And correspondence dating back twenty years.
Dominic read the first page.
Then the second.
His face lost color.
Norah moved beside him.
“What?”
He handed her a photograph.
A younger Dominic stood beside his father outside the Russo compound.
Behind them was another man.
Salvatore Greco.
On the back, someone had written:
The night Antonio Russo died.
Norah looked at Dominic.
“Your father died in a car accident.”
“That was the story.”
Leo picked up another document.
His expression darkened.
“Dominic.”
He handed over a police report.
The brakes on Antonio Russo's car had been cut.
The investigating detective had received two hundred thousand dollars three days later.
The money came from a Greco-controlled account.
Dominic went completely still.
The betrayal was no longer about Norah.
Greco had not simply challenged Dominic's future.
He had murdered his past.
They arrested Greco before dawn.
Dominic ordered everyone out of the basement interrogation room.
Everyone except Norah.
Greco sat handcuffed to a steel chair.
He looked old now.
Not powerful.
Not traditional.
Old.
Dominic placed the police report in front of him.
“You killed my father.”
Greco smiled.
“Your father was going to destroy everything.”
“Why?”
“He wanted out.”
Norah felt cold.
Greco looked at her.
“Just like you.”
Dominic's expression changed.
Greco laughed.
“Antonio wanted legitimate businesses. He wanted schools for the children. He wanted to stop narcotics. Stop extortion. He said the family had enough money.”
Dominic stared.
“He was going to dismantle the syndicate?”
“He was going to castrate it.”
Greco leaned forward.
“So I stopped him.”
Dominic raised his gun.
Norah did not interfere.
Not this time.
Greco looked at her.
“You think you're different?”
His smile widened.
“You think love changes men like us?”
Norah said nothing.
“You'll either become him,” Greco told Dominic, “or she'll become us.”
Dominic fired.
One shot.
Greco fell silent.
Dominic stood over him.
Then his arm dropped.
Norah approached.
He looked at her.
“My father wanted out.”
“Yes.”
“All these years, I thought he died because he was careless.”
Norah touched his hand.
“He died because he tried to give you another future.”
Dominic looked at Greco's body.
Then at the documents surrounding them.
“What if he was right?”
May you like
Norah squeezed his fingers.
“Then finish what he started.”
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