Chapter 12 - The Night He Chose Trust
Vincent locked Enzo out of operations.
Not out of the house.
That surprised everyone.
Especially Enzo.
“You think I betrayed you?”
“I think somebody wants me to think you did.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
Vincent stood across from his oldest friend.
“It’s the only one I have.”
Enzo laughed bitterly.
“Twenty years.”
“I know.”
“I was in the hospital every night.”
“I know.”
“I found Norah’s soup.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still not sure.”
Vincent looked away.
That hurt Enzo more than anger would have.
“Fine.”
Enzo removed his access card and placed it on the desk.
“Figure it out.”
He left.
Norah waited outside.
Enzo saw her.
“Congratulations.”
“For what?”
“You’re officially the person he trusts more than me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Tell him.”
Enzo walked away.
Norah entered the study.
Vincent was staring at nothing.
“You handled that terribly.”
He looked at her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I suppose you have advice.”
“Yes.”
“I was joking.”
“I’m not.”
Vincent sat.
Norah remained standing.
“Do you think Enzo betrayed you?”
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Vincent frowned.
She repeated it.
“Do you think he betrayed you?”
“No.”
“Then why treat him like he did?”
“Because thinking something and proving it are different.”
“Trust isn’t proof.”
“In my world it has to be.”
“That sounds lonely.”
Vincent stared at her.
It was.
Norah sat opposite.
“Who benefits if you stop trusting Enzo?”
“Julian.”
“Then you’re giving him exactly what he wants.”
Vincent looked down.
The logic was simple.
Painfully so.
Norah continued.
“You survived the poison. Then you stopped eating because your body stopped trusting food.”
He looked up.
“And?”
“Now someone is trying to make you stop trusting people.”
Vincent went still.
Norah had connected the two better than any strategist around him.
Poison the body.
Then poison the relationships.
Isolation was the real weapon.
Vincent stood.
He found Enzo in the courtyard smoking a cigarette.
“I hate those.”
Enzo did not turn.
“So does everybody.”
“You’re back.”
Enzo laughed.
“That apology needs work.”
“I’m not apologizing.”
“Of course not.”
Vincent stood beside him.
“I trust you.”
Enzo finally looked over.
“Why?”
“Norah yelled at me.”
Enzo smiled.
“That seems to happen often.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He flicked away the cigarette.
“Because I already found out who used my name.”
Vincent turned.
“What?”
“One of the gate guards. Paul Jenner.”
“Why?”
“Paid fifty grand through a shell company.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“He used your name on calls?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“When?”
“An hour before Liam disappeared.”
Vincent cursed quietly.
Enzo handed him a file.
“The shell company traces to Martin.”
Proof.
Finally.
Not enough for Mercer.
Enough for Martin.
Norah joined them.
“What?”
Vincent handed her the documents.
She read.
“So Enzo is innocent.”
Enzo put a hand over his chest.
“I’m touched by your confidence.”
“I always liked you.”
“More than him?”
She pointed toward Vincent.
“Much.”
Vincent looked offended.
Enzo laughed.
For the first time in days, the tension broke.
Later that night, Vincent found Norah on a balcony.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I don’t.”
“I’ve noticed.”
He stood beside her.
The city lights glittered beyond the estate.
“Thank you.”
Norah glanced over.
“For?”
“Enzo.”
“I didn’t prove anything.”
“No.”
“You decided.”
Vincent looked at her.
“That’s harder.”
Norah leaned against the railing.
“Do you know why your soup worked?”
“My soup?”
“The first one.”
“It was mine.”
“Technically.”
He smiled.
Norah continued.
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Dangerous.”
She ignored him.
“Maybe it wasn’t the ingredients.”
Vincent looked toward her.
“You remembered your grandmother.”
“Yes.”
“You felt safe.”
He became quiet.
“Maybe your body needed that more than some perfect recipe.”
Vincent stared at the lights.
“You make me feel safe.”
The words came out before he could stop them.
Norah froze.
So did Vincent.
Neither looked away.
For weeks, something had been growing between them.
Careful.
Quiet.
Impossible to name.
Now it had a name.
Norah’s voice dropped.
“Vincent.”
“I know.”
“This is complicated.”
“I know.”
“You’re my employer.”
“I can fix that.”
She laughed softly.
“That might be the most mafia answer possible.”
Vincent smiled.
Then became serious.
“I’m not asking for anything.”
“I know.”
“I just wanted you to know.”
Norah studied him.
Then reached across and took his hand.
No kiss.
No dramatic declaration.
Just fingers closing gently around his.
Vincent looked down.
The most feared man Norah had ever met seemed almost uncertain what to do.
She squeezed once.
He squeezed back.
His phone rang.
Vincent closed his eyes.
Norah laughed.
“Reality.”
“I dislike reality.”
He answered.
Martin Vale had been found.
Not arrested.
Not captured.
Found.
Sitting alone inside a church.
Waiting.
And he had asked to speak with Vincent.
Martin claimed Julian Mercer had ordered everything.
The poisoning.
The debt.
The manipulation.
But he also claimed Julian was preparing something much larger.
By sunrise, Vincent Rossy would either surrender control of his organization—
May you like
or Julian Mercer intended to destroy everyone Vincent had left.
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