Chapter 7 - SINS OF THE FATHER
Mave stopped the video.
Nobody spoke.
The car moved through rain.
She turned slowly toward Vincent.
“Your father approved my father’s murder?”
Vincent’s expression was unreadable.
“Yes.”
Leo looked away.
Frank gripped the steering wheel.
Mave felt something inside her crack.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew your father signed off on killing mine.”
“Yes.”
“And you still let me work for you.”
“I tried to protect you.”
“Stop saying that!”
Frank flinched.
Mave pointed at Vincent.
“You built my life around a lie.”
“I gave you a job.”
“You investigated me before you hired me.”
“Yes.”
“You had my measurements.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Bad timing.
Mave saw it.
“Do not.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You absolutely were.”
His face became serious again.
“I knew your father.”
“You knew he was murdered.”
“I was there when he asked my father for help.”
Mave’s anger stopped.
“What happened?”
Vincent looked out the window.
“Martin brought evidence showing Salvatore was running women through our shipping network. He asked my father to turn his own brother over to federal authorities.”
“And?”
“My father said family problems stay inside the family.”
Mave whispered, “So he killed him.”
“He didn’t order the hit.”
“But he allowed it.”
“Yes.”
“Same thing.”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
That answer surprised her.
No defense.
No excuse.
Just guilt.
Mave restarted the video.
Her father continued.
“Vincent tried to stop them. He was nineteen years old and stupid enough to think courage could change men who had forgotten what conscience meant.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“He warned me.”
Mave stared.
“I didn’t listen.”
On the screen, Martin smiled sadly.
“If Vincent is still alive, tell him I’m sorry.”
The video ended.
Silence filled the car.
Mave wiped her face.
Vincent said nothing.
She hated him.
She trusted him.
She wanted to hit him again.
She wanted him close.
Every feeling contradicted another.
Leo broke the silence.
“Guys.”
He pointed at the laptop.
A spreadsheet had opened automatically.
Thousands of transactions filled the screen.
Mave leaned closer.
“These aren’t old.”
Vincent frowned.
“How recent?”
She scrolled.
“Yesterday.”
Frank looked in the mirror.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Mave’s pulse quickened.
“Someone has been updating this file.”
Vincent leaned over.
“What accounts?”
“Belize. New Jersey. Same ones I found this morning.”
Mave began connecting transfers.
Thirty thousand.
Thirty thousand.
Thirty thousand.
Then larger numbers.
“That money isn’t being stolen.”
“What is it?”
“Payroll.”
“For who?”
She filtered the recipients.
Security contractors.
Private drivers.
Weapon suppliers.
Temporary warehouses.
Mave felt sick.
“It’s an operation.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“How large?”
“Big.”
“How soon?”
Mave checked timestamps.
Then she froze.
“What?”
“These payments activate tomorrow morning.”
Leo leaned closer.
“For what?”
Mave opened another tab.
A list of names appeared.
Judges.
Police officers.
Union leaders.
Costa captains.
Then one final name.
VINCENT COSTA.
Beside it:
TERMINATE BEFORE 8:00 A.M.
Mave stared at him.
“They’re not planning a coup.”
May you like
Her voice dropped.
“They’re planning an execution.”
