Chapter 10 - THE GODFATHER
Victor Salerno arrived for Sunday breakfast every month.
He brought Lucy books.
Birthday gifts.
Once, when Lucy broke her arm falling from a pony, Victor sat in the hospital waiting room for six hours.
He called her “Little Star.”
Now Raffaele listened to Victor discuss Sofia as if she were a problem on a balance sheet.
Isabella’s voice came through the recording.
“Nobody hurts Sofia.”
Victor answered, “Then persuade her.”
“I tried.”
“She’s going to Raffaele?”
“Yes.”
“And after that?”
“Police, probably.”
Victor cursed.
“If she exposes the accounts, every federal agency in New York starts looking at Moretti Logistics.”
Sofia had not realized it.
Neither had Celeste.
Some of the shell companies had also been used for business Isabella and Victor had hidden from Raffaele.
Illegal contracts.
Bribes.
Political payoffs.
Sofia’s discovery threatened more than Marcus and Celeste.
It threatened an entire criminal network Raffaele didn’t even know existed.
The recording continued.
Isabella said, “Scare her if necessary. But she comes home alive.”
Victor answered.
“Understood.”
Raffaele stopped the audio.
Nobody spoke.
Finally Dante said, “Victor was in the SUV.”
Raffaele shook his head.
“We don’t know.”
But he already knew.
He called Victor.
The older man answered on the second ring.
“Raff. Everything okay?”
Raffaele looked at Sofia’s photograph.
“Come to the house.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Lucy wants to see you.”
A pause.
Then Victor said, “I’ll be there in thirty.”
Raffaele hung up.
Celeste stared at him.
“What are you going to do?”
“Listen.”
“To what?”
“To how he lies.”
Thirty-four minutes later, Victor walked into the house carrying a bakery box.
“Where’s my little star?”
Raffaele stood in the library.
“Upstairs.”
Victor noticed Dante.
Then Marcus.
Then Celeste.
Then the suitcases.
His expression barely changed.
That alone told Raffaele something.
“What’s going on?”
Raffaele gestured toward a chair.
“Sit.”
Victor didn’t.
“Raff.”
“Sit.”
Victor slowly placed the bakery box down.
Raffaele pressed play.
His mother’s voice.
Then Victor’s.
The older man listened.
His face aged ten years in sixty seconds.
When the recording stopped, Raffaele asked one question.
“Were you driving the Escalade?”
Victor stared at him.
“No.”
Raffaele smiled sadly.
“Wrong answer.”
He tossed a printed photo onto the table.
Dante had enhanced the gas station footage.
The driver’s hand rested outside the window for three frames.
A distinctive gold ring was visible.
A lion’s head.
Victor had worn the same ring for thirty years.
Victor looked down at his hand.
He was still wearing it.
Raffaele’s voice became quiet.
“Try again.”
Victor removed the ring.
Placed it on the table.
Then looked Raffaele in the eyes.
“Yes.”
Celeste gasped.
Marcus backed away.
Raffaele didn’t move.
“Did you hit Sofia’s car?”
Victor nodded once.
“Yes.”
“Did you kill my wife?”
Victor’s eyes filled.
“No.”
Raffaele stared at him.
May you like
Victor added:
“But I know who did.”
