Chapter 13 - THE EMPTY CHAIR
The restaurant had been closed for six years.
Its old sign still hung over the entrance.
ORSINI’S.
Nell remembered birthdays there.
Red booths.
Paper tablecloths.
Her father stealing cherries from her Shirley Temple.
Now the windows were covered, and dead leaves crowded the doorway.
Agent Bell had spent the afternoon coordinating the response.
Nell and Carmine were not going in alone, even if Vittorio believed they were.
The original evidence was secure.
The box Nell carried contained copies.
She had been told what to do if she saw Jonah.
What to do if she didn’t.
Above all, she had been told she could still step back.
She chose to walk beside her father.
Inside, one table was set.
Three chairs.
Vittorio sat with a glass of wine.
Bastian stood near the kitchen.
Jonah was tied to a chair beside the old service counter.
His lip was swollen.
He lifted his head when Nell entered.
She nearly ran to him.
Carmine touched her elbow, barely.
Wait.
Vittorio smiled.
“There they are.”
“Let the boy go,” Carmine said.
“The box first.”
Nell set it on a nearby table.
“Untie him.”
Vittorio looked at her.
“Your mother had that same tone. As if being right protected her.”
Nell kept her hands visible.
“You kept her ring.”
“A mistake. I know.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“Sometimes you keep a thing because you can.”
Carmine’s jaw tightened.
Nell spoke before he could.
“She found out about the signature.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel Price.”
Vittorio glanced at his brother.
“Daniel was going to destroy everything you built.”
“So you killed him,” Carmine said.
“I cleaned up after you.”
“You forged my name.”
“I used the authority you were happy to lend me until someone complained.”
That landed.
Nell saw it.
Vittorio leaned forward.
“You wanted clean shirts and dirty money, Carmine. Someone had to do the washing.”
Carmine’s voice stayed low.
“You tried to burn my child alive.”
“I tried to stop your wife from handing our lives to strangers.”
Jonah made a small sound.
Bastian struck the counter beside him.
Nell stepped forward.
“Don’t touch him.”
Vittorio studied her.
Then his smile faded.
“You’re asking very careful questions.”
The room went silent.
His eyes moved to Carmine’s coat.
Then to Nell’s.
“You brought an audience.”
May you like
Bastian reached inside his jacket.
And Vittorio stood, pulling Jonah’s chair backward into the dark.
