Chapter 6 - The Price of the Truth
The name on the ledger belonged to Father Anthony Bellini.
The priest who had stood beside my ICU bed.
The man who watched Dominic slide the ring onto my finger.
The man who blessed a marriage I never agreed to.
The man Dominic trusted because he had known the Rossi family for thirty years.
“He wasn’t a priest then,” Isabella said when we called her.
“What was he?” I asked.
Dominic answered.
“My father’s attorney.”
Everything suddenly made terrible sense.
Anthony knew the businesses.
The accounts.
The passwords.
The family secrets.
Then, after Antonio Rossi died, Anthony entered the church.
Or pretended to.
“We need proof beyond the ledger,” Enzo said.
“I have it,” a voice said from behind us.
My mother.
I spun.
She stood in the doorway.
Alive.
Two security men behind her.
I ran to her.
“How?”
“I was never kidnapped.”
I stopped.
“What?”
She looked ashamed.
“Dominic’s men moved me after someone tried to reach the Cleveland facility. The photograph Victor sent was old.”
Dominic turned sharply toward Enzo.
Enzo nodded.
“I kept her location compartmentalized.”
“You let me believe—”
“I needed Costa to believe it too.”
I stared at my mother.
“Then why the train-yard photograph?”
“Manipulated.”
Enzo held up his phone.
“Composite.”
I wanted to scream.
Instead I sat because my body reminded me I had recently been shot.
Ellen knelt beside me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
“I know.”
She took my hand.
“Anthony came to see Daniel two nights before he died.”
Dominic froze.
“What?”
“I heard them arguing.”
“About?”
“The ledger.”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Anthony told Daniel Antonio Rossi and Victor Costa had both agreed the records could never reach the government.”
Isabella whispered, “My husband and Costa agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Then they were partners.”
“In some things.”
Dominic’s expression became stone.
“My father built his entire reputation fighting Costa.”
Ellen looked at him sadly.
“Men like your father often need an enemy in public.”
No one spoke.
My mother continued.
“Daniel planned to give everything to federal investigators. Anthony warned him not to.”
“And then?”
“He arranged the roadblock.”
Dominic looked sick.
“Marco.”
“Was following instructions.”
“So my brother…”
“Was used.”
The room changed.
For twenty years Dominic had blamed himself for condemning Marco.
For twenty years I had believed my father died in an accident.
For twenty years two families had been shaped by one man’s decision.
“Anthony has been feeding Victor information ever since,” Enzo said.
“Why?”
“Because Victor still has records connecting Anthony to the old network.”
I looked at Dominic.
“So he betrayed you because Costa could expose him.”
“Yes.”
A slow, cold clarity settled over me.
“We don’t go to the train yard.”
Dominic frowned.
“Maya—”
“We give Victor what he wants.”
“No.”
“Not the real ledger.”
Enzo understood first.
“A controlled version.”
“Exactly.”
Dominic shook his head.
“Too risky.”
“You said I’m the key.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m putting you in front of Costa.”
“He wants me. That’s leverage.”
“No.”
I leaned toward him.
“You don’t get to make the decision for me again.”
That landed.
He went silent.
Finally he said, “Then we do it your way.”
Victor chose an abandoned waterfront office near Red Hook.
Of course he did.
Men like Victor Costa apparently believed every important conversation required rusted steel and terrible lighting.
I entered alone.
At least that’s what Victor believed.
A microphone was hidden beneath my coat.
Enzo’s team monitored the perimeter.
Dominic was somewhere nearby.
He hated every second.
Good.
Victor sat behind an old desk.
He was older than I expected.
Sixties.
Silver hair.
Beautiful suit.
Not a monster from a nightmare.
Just a man who looked like he belonged in a bank boardroom.
That made him worse.
“Maya.”
“Victor.”
“You brought it?”
I held up a drive.
“You brought the truth?”
He smiled.
“Which truth?”
“The one about my father.”
“Anthony killed him.”
“I know.”
His smile disappeared slightly.
“That was fast.”
“He ordered it.”
“Yes.”
“And you allowed it.”
“I benefited from it.”
At least he was honest.
“Why do you need the ledger now?”
“Because people change.”
“Meaning?”
“Men who once worked with me now want respectable lives.”
“Politicians.”
“Among others.”
“And the ledger ruins them.”
“It ruins everyone.”
“Including the Rossis.”
Victor smiled.
“Especially them.”
I placed the drive on the desk.
“Then take it.”
He didn’t touch it.
“What’s the trick?”
“No trick.”
“You’re Daniel’s daughter. There’s always a trick.”
I smiled.
“My father would like hearing that.”
Victor’s eyes shifted.
Behind him, a door opened.
Father Anthony entered.
No collar.
No prayer book.
Just a dark suit.
“You.”
His expression was almost paternal.
“Maya.”
“You stood over my hospital bed.”
“I prayed for you.”
“You helped put me there.”
“Victor acted without consulting me.”
Victor laughed.
“Priests. Always finding a technicality.”
Anthony’s mouth tightened.
That was it.
The fracture.
I needed them suspicious of each other.
“You know Victor plans to hand you over,” I said.
Anthony looked at me.
“What?”
Victor rolled his eyes.
“She’s stalling.”
“Am I?”
I pulled out a printed ledger page.
Anthony’s name was highlighted.
“Every payment.”
His face changed.
Victor stood.
“Give me that.”
Anthony looked at him.
“You said those records were gone.”
“They were.”
“No,” I said. “You simply never had the final key.”
Victor’s gaze moved to my hand.
No ring.
“Where is it?”
“Safe.”
His face hardened.
“I can bring Ellen here in fifteen minutes.”
“No, you can’t.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
Good.
He hadn’t known the photograph was false.
Anthony noticed too.
“You lied to me.”
Victor turned.
“Not now.”
“You said you had Ellen.”
“I said she was controlled.”
“You don’t control anything.”
Victor’s hand moved toward his jacket.
The doors burst open.
Dominic entered with Enzo and three federal agents.
Victor froze.
Federal.
That had been my condition.
No execution.
No revenge killing.
Evidence.
Dominic had agreed.
Victor stared at him.
“You brought the government into family business?”
Dominic’s voice was calm.
“My family business ends today.”
Anthony stepped backward.
One agent raised his weapon.
“Don’t.”
Anthony stopped.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
Victor looked at me.
“You think this ends because you gave them a ledger?”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“It ends because you spent twenty years believing fear made people loyal.”
Behind the mirrored observation glass, prosecutors had heard every word.
Including Victor admitting he benefited from Daniel’s death.
Including Anthony’s responses.
Including the argument.
Victor realized it too late.
He smiled sadly.
“You are your father’s daughter.”
“I hope so.”
Then a shot cracked.
Not from Victor.
Anthony.
He had pulled a small pistol from an ankle holster.
Dominic moved before anyone else.
He slammed into me.
The bullet struck him.
Chaos exploded.
Agents tackled Anthony.
Enzo fired once into the ceiling deliberately as men moved.
Victor dropped to the floor.
I didn’t see any of it clearly.
I saw Dominic.
He was on his knees.
One hand pressed against his side.
Blood spreading through his shirt.
“No.”
I caught him before he hit the floor.
His face had gone pale.
“Dominic.”
He looked at me.
“Seven bullets,” he whispered.
“What?”
“You took seven.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“I only took one.”
“Stop talking.”
“You’ll complain if I don’t.”
“Dominic.”
His eyes began closing.
I slapped his cheek lightly.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“Ring,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Pocket.”
I reached into his coat.
The gold wedding ring.
He had carried it.
Even after I gave it back.
My throat closed.
“I didn’t throw it away,” he murmured.
“Shut up.”
“I was going to.”
“Dominic.”
“But I’m a liar.”
His eyes closed.
The agents shouted for medical help.
I pressed my hand over his wound.
“Stay with me.”
No response.
“Dominic!”
Someone pulled me back.
Paramedics rushed in.
His hand slipped from mine.
For the second time in weeks, blood covered that gold ring.
Only this time it belonged to him.
May you like
And when the ambulance doors slammed shut, nobody could tell me whether Dominic Rossi would ever open his eyes again.
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