Chapter 13 - Anthony Chooses a Side
Grant Holloway’s press conference lasted twenty-three minutes.
By morning, clips were everywhere.
He accused Anthony of manipulating witnesses.
Bribing officials.
Using Riverside as public-relations cover.
Threatening competitors.
Controlling freight contracts through intimidation.
Some claims were ridiculous.
Some were distorted.
Some were true enough to be dangerous.
Anthony watched the full press conference once.
Then switched off the television.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“What?”
“You’re not going to throw something?”
“No.”
“Threaten somebody?”
“No.”
“Buy the television station?”
He looked at me.
“I don’t own the television station.”
“That is not as reassuring as you think.”
He almost smiled.
Then Daniel entered Anthony’s office carrying three folders.
I had never been there before.
The office was surprisingly plain.
Brick walls.
Large windows.
Wooden desk.
No gold furniture.
No giant portrait of himself.
I had expected at least one dramatic leather chair.
Instead there were shipping maps and a photograph of Maria.
Daniel dropped the folders.
“We have a problem.”
Anthony leaned back.
“Only one?”
“The federal attorney’s office called.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
“Federal?”
Daniel nodded.
“They want Anthony for an interview.”
“About Holloway?”
“And Russo operations.”
Anthony did not react visibly.
I did.
“Are they arresting you?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Daniel answered.
“Because they invited him voluntarily.”
“That doesn’t sound comforting.”
“It isn’t.”
Anthony looked at me.
“This was always possible.”
“Because of Grant?”
“Because of me.”
The room went quiet.
He stood and walked toward the window.
“I spent years converting businesses without admitting publicly what they were before.”
“Were they illegal?”
“Some.”
“How illegal?”
He turned.
“Sports betting before state legalization. High-interest private loans. Clubs running unreported cash. Freight contracts awarded through pressure.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Pressure meaning threats.”
“Sometimes.”
“From you?”
“Yes.”
He did not hide.
That mattered.
It did not erase anything.
“Why tell the government now?”
Daniel answered carefully.
“Because Holloway is giving them names.”
“True names?”
“Some.”
Anthony looked at his mother’s photograph.
“They’re going to keep pulling until they find everything.”
“So?”
He faced me.
“So I can fight.”
“Or?”
“I can cooperate.”
The second option seemed obvious.
Until Daniel said, “Cooperation means Anthony opens the books.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“What happens?”
Anthony’s expression went flat.
“People who worked for my father may be charged.”
“People who worked for you?”
“Yes.”
“You?”
“Possibly.”
My chest tightened.
“Prison?”
Daniel intervened.
“We’re nowhere near predicting that.”
“But possible.”
“Yes.”
I stared at Anthony.
“What are you thinking?”
“That my father spent his entire life building a system designed so nobody could tell the truth without destroying everybody around them.”
“And you?”
“I kept enough of it alive that the same problem is now mine.”
He sat.
For the first time since meeting him, Anthony looked exhausted rather than controlled.
“What would fighting look like?” I asked.
“Lawyers. Challenging warrants. Protecting records. Letting prosecutors prove whatever they can.”
“Could you win?”
Daniel said, “Potentially.”
Anthony looked at him.
Daniel shrugged.
“You pay me to be accurate.”
“What would cooperating look like?”
Anthony answered.
“Everything.”
One word.
I understood.
Not selective truth.
Not Grant’s crimes only.
His own.
His father’s.
Vincent’s.
The entire machinery.
“Would it destroy your company?”
“Parts.”
“Your money?”
“Some.”
“Your reputation?”
He laughed softly.
“My reputation is not exactly delicate.”
I walked toward the desk.
“Then what are you afraid of?”
That question hurt him.
I saw it.
“People.”
“Which people?”
“Employees who never did anything wrong. Truck drivers. Office staff. Warehouse crews. Families depending on paychecks.”
“That’s legitimate.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
He looked at me.
“But I’m also afraid of losing control.”
There it was.
The truth beneath everything.
“If I cooperate, other people decide what happens next.”
“And your father taught you control was survival.”
“Yes.”
I sat across from him.
“What did your mother teach you?”
His eyes moved toward her photograph.
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Power is what you refuse to become.
Anthony met with federal prosecutors the next day.
Without immunity.
Daniel nearly had a heart attack over that decision.
They negotiated protections for legitimate employees and companies.
Anthony agreed to provide financial records connected to illegal betting operations shut down years earlier.
Private loan books.
Contract communications.
Names.
He admitted using intimidation.
He admitted tax failures in cash businesses inherited from his father.
He admitted things the city had whispered for years.
And because he came voluntarily with records before a subpoena forced him, negotiations changed.
He wasn’t absolved.
He was cooperating.
There is a difference.
The consequences arrived quickly.
Three banks froze Russo-related accounts pending review.
A construction partner withdrew from a project.
Two board members resigned.
News helicopters hovered near his office.
One headline:
ANTHONY RUSSO ADMITS FAMILY EMPIRE INCLUDED ILLEGAL OPERATIONS
Another:
ROCHESTER’S MOST FEARED BUSINESSMAN TURNS WITNESS
People who once feared Anthony now debated him on television.
Some called him courageous.
Others called him a criminal protecting himself.
Both could be true.
He did not ask me to defend him.
That mattered most.
At Corner Print, customers whispered.
One woman asked whether I was “the girlfriend.”
“I’m the printer.”
She looked disappointed.
Mia printed a fake nameplate for my desk:
EMMA HAYES — DEFINITELY JUST THE PRINTER
I threw a roll of tape at her.
My father came to Rochester twice that week.
He volunteered at Riverside.
Quietly.
No speeches.
No expectation that I forgive him.
He washed dishes.
Moved boxes.
Fixed a broken cabinet hinge.
Louise made him earn every cup of coffee.
I appreciated that.
One Friday evening, Anthony came to Riverside after meeting prosecutors.
He looked terrible.
I found him sitting alone beneath the old marquee outside.
For once, no security stood directly nearby.
I sat beside him.
“How bad?”
“They’re charging two former managers.”
“People you know?”
“Yes.”
“Did they do what they’re accused of?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you look guilty?”
“Because I knew enough to stop it earlier.”
I didn’t tell him it wasn’t his fault.
Sometimes it was.
Instead I said, “What are you going to do about the people working for the legal companies?”
“Create independent management.”
“Meaning?”
“I step away.”
I turned.
“From everything?”
“Operational control.”
“That’s huge.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because as long as every company depends on Anthony Russo personally, nothing really changed.”
He had finally understood the thing I had been trying to articulate.
Ownership wasn’t only property.
Sometimes it was dependence.
“You chose.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“A side.”
He smiled sadly.
“I’m not sure there are sides anymore.”
“There are.”
“Which?”
“The one where you keep the machine because it protects you.”
I paused.
“And the one where you dismantle the parts that hurt people even if you lose something.”
He looked toward the glowing marquee.
“My father would call that weakness.”
“Your mother wouldn’t.”
Silence.
Then Anthony said, “I have to sell the private security company.”
“Why?”
“Federal conflict concerns.”
“Do you care?”
“I built that one myself.”
There it was.
Something actually his.
Not inherited.
Not corrupt.
His.
“That hurts.”
“Yes.”
I touched his hand.
This time he turned it over and linked our fingers.
No dramatic kiss.
No declaration.
We just sat there.
After a while, he said, “I may lose a lot.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want you staying because you think I’m becoming good.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“I’m not doing this for a reward.”
“Good.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“That was fast.”
“I don’t hand out gold stars for not committing crimes.”
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Then he looked at me.
“What do you want from me?”
I thought about it.
“Truth before I have to discover it.”
“Yes.”
“Choice.”
“Yes.”
“No using protection as an excuse to control me.”
“Yes.”
“And if we ever have dinner again, you’re ordering your own appetizer.”
He smiled.
“That feels punitive.”
“It is.”
He squeezed my hand.
My phone rang.
Louise.
I answered.
“What?”
She sounded breathless.
“Emma, get inside.”
I stood.
“What happened?”
“Someone just drove through Riverside’s fence.”
My stomach dropped.
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. Building’s fine.”
Anthony was already on his feet.
“What?”
I put Louise on speaker.
She continued.
“They left something.”
“What?” Anthony asked.
Louise paused.
“A construction sign.”
I looked at Anthony.
“What does it say?”
Louise read it.
FUTURE SITE OF HOLLOWAY RIVER DISTRICT — COMING SOON
Anthony’s expression went cold.
Grant had not surrendered.
Even with investigators closing in.
Even with his accounts under review.
May you like
He still believed he could take Riverside.
And now he was done pretending the fight was only paperwork.
