Chapter 7 - Vincent did not sleep.
Nora knew because she did not sleep either.
At 4:30 a.m., she found him in the former monastery chapel standing before a table covered with photographs.
The original altar had been removed decades earlier.
In its place stood maps, financial records, satellite images, personnel charts, and open weapons cases.
Vincent wore a fresh black shirt over the bandages Nora had applied.
He looked pale.
His posture concealed it.
Nora leaned against the doorway.
“You promised 30 minutes.”
“I gave you 32.”
“That was not the spirit of the agreement.”
Vincent did not look up.
“The Antonovs do not care about the spirit of agreements.”
“Your ribs might.”
He continued examining photographs.
Nora walked closer.
The central image showed Elena Costa.
She was perhaps 3 years younger than Vincent.
Beautiful in the precise, severe way that wealthy families often produced after generations of money, education, and selective cruelty.
Dark hair.
Straight posture.
No visible fear.
“What is she like?” Nora asked.
“My sister?”
“Yes.”
Vincent moved one photograph.
“Intelligent.”
“That sounded like an accusation.”
“It frequently is.”
Another image showed Elena entering a hospital fundraiser.
Another showed her beside an elderly man Nora assumed was a Costa relative.
“She knows the business?”
“She knows enough.”
“That means yes.”
Vincent’s hand stopped.
“Our father did not allow women into operational leadership.”
Nora looked at him.
“And you?”
“I removed many of my father’s rules.”
“But not that one?”
Vincent finally looked at her.
“Do you believe Elena met Grigori because I did not give her a sufficiently impressive office?”
“I believe people usually have reasons before they betray family.”
“Reasons and excuses are different things.”
Nora moved beside him.
“My mother used to steal money from me.”
Vincent said nothing.
“I started working when I was 15. Grocery store. Then a pharmacy. I kept cash inside a sock beneath my mattress.”
She looked at Elena’s photograph.
“My mother always found it.”
“You never mentioned your mother in the information my men collected.”
Nora gave him a flat look.
“That sentence continues to be disturbing.”
Vincent accepted the criticism silently.
“She died when I was 19,” Nora continued. “Alcohol poisoning. I spent years believing I hated her because she stole from me.”
“And?”
“I hated her because every time she did it, she made me understand that I could never safely love her.”
Vincent’s eyes remained on the photographs.
Nora touched Elena’s image.
“You’re angry because she may have betrayed your organization.”
“Yes.”
“No. You’re angry because she may have made you stupid for trusting her.”
Vincent looked at Nora.
The silence became sharp.
She wondered whether she had gone too far.
Then he said, “You should return to bed.”
“That means I’m right.”
“It means your psychological analysis is becoming irritating.”
“Also means I’m right.”
Vincent picked up another document.
Nora smiled faintly.
It disappeared when Bennett entered.
“We located Elena’s driver.”
“Alive?” Vincent asked.
“Yes.”
“Bring him.”
Bennett hesitated.
“Nora should leave.”
Vincent looked toward her.
Nora immediately understood what would happen.
“No.”
“Nora.”
“If the man helped them find me, I want to hear him.”
“You do not understand what an interrogation involves.”
“I heard you order someone’s tongue removed while eating eggs.”
“That was conversation.”
Nora stared.
Vincent sighed quietly.
“Stay behind me.”
“I am not hiding behind you.”
“That was not an invitation to debate.”
Four men brought in Elena’s driver.
His name was Michael Rizzo.
He was middle-aged, slightly overweight, and terrified enough that his knees shook.
No one had injured him yet.
Nora noticed the yet immediately.
They seated him in a wooden chair.
Vincent did not threaten him.
He simply stood across the table.
“Where is my sister?”
Rizzo swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
Vincent nodded.
“Again.”
“I swear.”
Vincent turned toward Bennett.
“Bring his telephone.”
Bennett placed the device on the table.
Vincent opened a message thread.
“You drove Elena to Little Odessa at 11:42 p.m.”
Rizzo’s breathing accelerated.
“Yes.”
“You waited 3 blocks away.”
“Yes.”
“She remained inside 38 minutes.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I drove her home.”
“Home where?”
“Her apartment.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“She was not there when my men arrived.”
Rizzo stared at the floor.
Vincent moved closer.
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Michael.”
The name came softly.
Rizzo started crying.
That was worse than violence.
Nora understood immediately that the driver knew Vincent well enough to understand what softness meant.
“She told me to stop near the river.”
Vincent became still.
“What location?”
Rizzo gave an address.
Bennett wrote it down.
“Who collected her?”
“A black sedan.”
“Plate?”
“I didn’t see.”
“Did she enter willingly?”
“Yes.”
“Who was inside?”
“I couldn’t see.”
Vincent studied him.
Then asked the question that changed the room.
“How long has Elena been meeting Antonov?”
Rizzo closed his eyes.
Vincent’s voice became lower.
“How long?”
“Two years.”
Nora felt the air leave her lungs.
Bennett cursed.
Vincent did nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
His face became empty.
Rizzo continued before anyone asked.
“She told me they were business meetings. She said you were negotiating through her because no one could know.”
“Two years,” Vincent repeated.
“Yes.”
“How many meetings?”
“I don’t know. Maybe 8. Ten.”
“Where?”
Rizzo listed restaurants, parking structures, a private club, an art warehouse.
Bennett wrote quickly.
Vincent remained motionless.
Nora watched his hands.
They had closed into fists.
“What did they discuss?”
“I was outside.”
“Did Elena ever carry documents?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Folders. Once a hard drive.”
Bennett looked up sharply.
Vincent’s eyes changed.
“The system breach.”
Bennett nodded.
“Could have been copied internally.”
Vincent turned back toward Rizzo.
“Did my sister give Antonov access credentials?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent pulled a pistol from his waistband.
Rizzo made a broken sound.
Nora’s pulse jumped.
Vincent placed the weapon on the table.
He did not point it.
That somehow made it worse.
“Michael. You drove my sister for 11 years. My mother trusted you. You attended Elena’s wedding.”
Nora looked at him.
Elena had been married.
Another detail Vincent had never mentioned.
“Tell me what she gave them.”
Rizzo cried silently.
Finally he whispered, “Information about your father.”
Vincent froze.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“What information?”
“Accounts. Properties. Old shipments.”
Vincent’s gaze sharpened.
“Old shipments from when?”
“I don’t know.”
Rizzo’s voice broke.
“Before you took over. Before your father died.”
Something inside Vincent’s expression shifted.
The betrayal suddenly became older than Nora.
Older than the Antonov war.
“What happened before you took over?” Nora asked.
Vincent did not answer.
Rizzo looked at her.
Then at Vincent.
His fear became something else.
Recognition.
“You don’t know,” he whispered.
Vincent’s attention snapped toward him.
“Know what?”
Rizzo began shaking his head.
“I shouldn’t.”
Vincent picked up the gun.
Nora moved.
She placed her hand over his wrist.
Everyone in the room froze.
Vincent looked down at her fingers.
Nora’s heart hammered.
“Give him a reason to talk that isn’t death.”
“He betrayed my family.”
“He drove a car.”
“He concealed treason.”
“And killing him before he answers is stupid.”
Bennett stared at the wall.
Nora suspected every survival instinct he possessed was ordering him not to exist.
Vincent looked at her for a long moment.
Then he returned the gun to the table.
“Speak.”
Rizzo breathed unevenly.
“Elena found records after your mother died.”
Vincent’s face tightened.
“What records?”
“Shipping manifests.”
“From where?”
“Port 4.”
Bennett frowned.
“Port 4 records are destroyed after 7 years.”
“These were private.”
Rizzo looked directly at Vincent.
“Your father kept copies.”
“What was shipped?”
“I don’t know everything.”
Rizzo’s voice dropped.
“But there were people.”
Nora felt cold.
Vincent did not move.
“People?”
“Women. Girls. Immigrants. Some had passports. Some didn’t.”
The chapel became silent.
Nora looked at Vincent.
He seemed genuinely unaware.
Rizzo continued.
“Elena found payment ledgers. Antonov was buying access to containers through your father.”
Vincent’s face lost color.
“Grigori?”
“His father. Viktor.”
The war had changed shape again.
It was no longer a port conflict that began 5 years earlier.
The Costa and Antonov families had worked together once.
“What did Elena do?” Vincent asked.
“She wanted proof.”
“Why meet Grigori?”
“He had the other half of the records.”
Nora understood.
“She wasn’t giving him information.”
Rizzo looked at her.
“At first, no.”
Vincent caught the distinction.
“At first.”
Rizzo closed his eyes.
“Then she learned something else.”
“What?”
“She said your father did not end the operation when you took control.”
Vincent became still.
“That is impossible.”
“She believed someone continued it under Costa protection.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“Who?”
Rizzo’s breathing became ragged.
“She never told me.”
Nora watched Vincent.
Everything he believed about the current betrayal had begun collapsing.
His sister might not have sold him to Grigori.
She might have been investigating a criminal operation inside Vincent’s own organization.
But that did not explain the gate codes.
The convoy route.
The attack.
“Did Elena know Nora existed?” Vincent asked suddenly.
Nora looked at him.
Rizzo hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She mentioned her once.”
“When?”
“About 6 months ago.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“What did she say?”
Rizzo looked at Nora now.
“She said Vincent’s ghost was still alive.”
Nora felt her skin tighten.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Rizzo shook his head.
“She said if Antonov ever found the woman from the South End, everything would begin again.”
Vincent stared at Nora.
The room disappeared around them.
Five years earlier, Nora had believed she randomly saved a wounded criminal.
But Elena had called her Vincent’s ghost.
Not a witness.
Not a rescuer.
A ghost.
“Why would I matter to anything that happened before?” Nora asked.
No one answered.
Then Bennett’s telephone rang.
He checked it.
His face immediately changed.
“Boss.”
Vincent looked over.
“We found Elena.”
“Where?”
“St. Catherine Hospital.”
Nora’s pulse accelerated.
“What happened?”
Bennett swallowed.
“She was dropped at the emergency entrance 12 minutes ago.”
Vincent’s voice became dangerous.
“Condition?”
“Gunshot wound.”
Everything stopped.
Vincent reached for his coat.
Nora grabbed the medical bag.
He looked at her.
“You’re staying.”
“No.”
“She may have been used to draw me out.”
“That is exactly why you need someone who can tell whether she’s stable before your men drag her into another armored vehicle.”
“Nora.”
“She knew about me 6 months ago.”
Nora stepped closer.
“I’m coming.”
Vincent’s eyes held hers.
Then he turned toward Bennett.
“Six cars.”
“No,” Nora said. “That announces you to half the city.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Three cars.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
Nora opened her mouth.
Vincent pointed toward the door.
“Do not become intoxicated by temporary authority.”
She followed him.
“You started negotiating with me.”
Vincent said nothing.
May you like
Bennett passed them.
This time Nora clearly saw him smile.
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