Chapter 4 - The Man Who Wanted Dominic Broken
They did not go to the warehouse.
Not immediately.
Dominic insisted on returning to the estate.
Fay protested until Carmine sided with him.
“That address has been hidden for four years,” Carmine said. “Another twelve hours won’t kill us. Walking into it blind might.”
So they returned.
The Corso gates closed behind them.
For the first time, Fay felt relieved to see them.
Mrs. Gable met the convoy outside.
“What happened?”
“Lock the estate,” Dominic said.
No one questioned him.
Within minutes, the entire property changed.
Doors secured.
Guards doubled.
Exterior lights activated.
Dominic disappeared into the west library with Carmine.
Fay was told to remain upstairs.
She lasted nineteen minutes.
Then she walked directly into the meeting.
Dominic looked up.
“I told you to stay upstairs.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I disagreed.”
Carmine coughed into his fist.
Dominic glared at him.
“Leave.”
Carmine left far too quickly.
Fay shut the door.
“You’re not excluding me.”
“This is my business.”
“My father’s note.”
“My family’s warehouse.”
“My life.”
Dominic’s jaw flexed.
“You really don’t follow instructions.”
“No.”
“That explains why you’re still employed.”
She sat opposite him.
“What do we know?”
Dominic hesitated.
Then surrendered.
“Salvatore DeLuca worked with my father for almost twenty years.”
“And you?”
“After my father died, DeLuca became my partner.”
“What happened?”
“I discovered he was stealing.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That sounds like a mafia answer.”
“It is.”
Fay sighed.
Dominic continued.
“I removed him from every business connected to the Corso organization.”
“And he didn’t take that well.”
“No.”
“The accident?”
Dominic looked toward the fire.
“Six months ago, my car went through a barrier near Lake Mercer.”
Fay had never asked.
Now she understood why everyone avoided the subject.
“Brake failure?”
“So I was told.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“I know the brake line was altered.”
Her face changed.
“DeLuca.”
“We could never prove it.”
“You think he tried to kill you.”
Dominic’s expression remained cold.
“I think he tried to kill Carmine and me. Carmine wasn’t in the car that night.”
Fay stared.
“So he only got you.”
Dominic’s eyes shifted.
“Apparently.”
He looked down at his legs.
Fay wished she could pull the words back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Silence.
Then Fay placed the brass key on the table.
“What did our fathers know?”
Dominic looked at it.
“That’s what we’re going to learn.”
They left before dawn.
Dominic refused the armored van.
“It’s conspicuous.”
“You own a mansion with iron gates,” Fay said. “I think subtlety left the building years ago.”
Carmine laughed.
Dominic did not.
But Fay saw the corner of his mouth move.
They took a dark SUV.
The abandoned warehouse stood beside the river.
Broken windows.
Rusting doors.
Faded lettering.
CORSON INDUSTRIAL SUPPLY.
Dominic stared through the windshield.
He had not returned since his father died.
Fay noticed.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want to leave?”
“No.”
It was the same answer she would have given.
Inside, dust covered everything.
Old machinery sat beneath plastic tarps.
Fay held the key.
“Where?”
Dominic pointed toward the administrative offices.
“My father had a private room upstairs.”
They found it locked.
The brass key fit.
Fay and Dominic looked at each other.
Carmine pushed the door open.
The office had been untouched.
Desk.
Bookshelf.
Filing cabinet.
A framed photograph of Dominic at nineteen.
He looked carefree.
Fay picked it up.
“You smiled.”
“I was young and stupid.”
“You were nineteen.”
“Exactly.”
They searched.
Nothing.
No ledger.
No safe.
Then Fay noticed scratches beneath the desk.
She knelt.
“There’s something here.”
A small keyhole.
She inserted the brass key.
Click.
A hidden drawer opened.
Inside was a flash drive.
Three envelopes.
And a digital recorder.
One envelope had Dominic’s name.
One said Michael.
The third said Fay.
Her hands trembled.
“Why would your father write to me?”
Dominic opened his envelope.
Inside was one sheet.
He read silently.
His face changed.
“What?”
He handed it to Fay.
Dominic, if you are reading this, then I failed to stop Salvatore. Michael Willis discovered that DeLuca had been laundering money through Corso manufacturing accounts and arranging unauthorized shipments under our name. Michael came to me because he feared what would happen if he went to police. I promised protection.
Dominic stopped reading aloud.
Fay continued.
The evidence has been duplicated. Michael knows where. If I die, protect him and his daughter. Do not trust anyone who tells you my death was natural.
Fay whispered:
“Your father knew.”
Dominic’s hand clenched.
For three years, he had accepted the official story.
Heart attack.
Natural causes.
Now—
Carmine picked up the recorder.
“Should we?”
Dominic nodded.
He pressed play.
Static.
Then Vincent Corso’s voice filled the abandoned office.
“Dominic, if this recording reaches you, Salvatore has already moved against me.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
His father’s voice.
After three years.
Fay watched his face.
“I made mistakes,” Vincent continued. “Too many. I allowed dangerous men close because they made money. Michael Willis reminded me there is a difference between loyalty and fear.”
Fay covered her mouth.
“Michael is innocent. Protect Fay. She knows nothing.”
The recording crackled.
Then another voice appeared in the background.
Salvatore.
“You should have stayed out of this, Vincent.”
A sound.
Movement.
Vincent’s voice became distant.
The recording ended.
Dominic sat frozen.
Fay reached toward him.
Then stopped.
He looked devastated.
Not because the recording proved murder.
Because it proved his father had known he was going to die.
And Dominic had not been there.
“I should have known,” he said.
“You couldn’t.”
“I should have questioned it.”
“You were grieving.”
“I took over his organization. I trusted DeLuca.”
“You didn’t know.”
Dominic looked at her.
“I put him beside me.”
“And when you learned what he was, you removed him.”
“Too late.”
Fay crouched beside the wheelchair.
“Dominic.”
His eyes met hers.
“This is not your guilt.”
Something shifted between them.
Her hand rested against his.
He did not pull away.
Then Carmine shouted.
“Down!”
The front windows shattered.
Not from bullets.
A vehicle had rammed the warehouse doors.
Men rushed inside.
Carmine pulled Dominic backward.
“Rear exit!”
Fay grabbed the flash drive.
They moved.
Dominic’s wheelchair struggled across the uneven floor.
Fay pushed from behind.
“I’ve got him,” Carmine said.
“No, cover the door.”
They reached the rear corridor.
A metal shelf had collapsed across it.
“No exit,” Fay whispered.
Dominic looked around.
“Freight elevator.”
They rushed toward it.
The ancient elevator doors opened.
Carmine forced Dominic inside.
Fay followed.
They descended.
Basement.
Darkness.
Dominic looked toward an old maintenance tunnel.
“It leads beneath the river road.”
“How do you know?”
“I used to hide here when my father brought me to work.”
They moved into the tunnel.
Behind them, voices approached.
Fay pushed the wheelchair.
The ground became rough.
Dominic hated every bump.
Then the right wheel struck broken concrete.
The chair tipped.
Fay screamed.
Dominic grabbed the wall.
The wheelchair remained upright, barely.
But something else happened.
His right foot hit the ground.
And Dominic felt it.
Not pressure.
Not phantom sensation.
Pain.
Real pain.
He stared downward.
“Stop.”
Fay froze.
“What?”
“My foot.”
“What about it?”
“I felt that.”
Carmine stared.
Dominic’s breathing quickened.
“Fay.”
She crouched.
“Can you move it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try.”
He closed his eyes.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Then—
His right foot shifted.
Barely an inch.
But Fay saw it.
Carmine saw it.
Dominic opened his eyes.
Fay whispered:
“You moved.”
He stared at her.
For six months, Dominic Corso had been told to hope cautiously.
For six months, nothing.
Now, in a dark tunnel while enemies searched for him overhead, his foot had moved.
And for the first time, Dominic allowed himself to believe something impossible.
He might walk again.
But their hope lasted only seconds.
Carmine’s phone buzzed.
A message.
He read it.
His face went hard.
“What?”
Dominic asked.
Carmine turned the screen toward him.
A photograph had arrived.
Mrs. Gable.
Tied to a chair inside the Corso estate.
Beneath it was one sentence.
Bring Fay Willis and the evidence, or your housekeeper dies.
Fay’s face drained.
Dominic looked at the picture.
Then at Fay.
Salvatore DeLuca had not attacked the warehouse to obtain the evidence.
He had attacked it to draw Corso security away from the estate.
May you like
And while Dominic had been chasing the truth about his father’s death, his enemy had walked straight into his home.
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