Chapter 5 - THE CAPTAIN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Frank Bellini arrived at the Santoro townhouse voluntarily.
That worried Dominic more than if he had run.
At sixty-three, Frank had the comfortable build of a man who enjoyed pasta, red wine, and winning arguments by waiting until everyone else ran out of patience.
He had known Dominic since Dominic was nine.
He had taught him to throw a baseball.
Had attended his confirmation.
Had stood beside Dominic’s father during three family wars.
And when Dominic was shot four months earlier, Frank spent nine hours in the hospital waiting room.
Now he entered the library at 10:05 p.m. carrying no weapon.
Carlo checked anyway.
Frank rolled his eyes.
“I changed your diapers once.”
Dominic looked at him.
“That doesn’t make you less suspicious.”
Frank almost smiled.
Almost.
Then he saw Nora and Mia sitting near the far wall.
His expression changed.
“Kid okay?”
Mia nodded.
Nora did not.
Dominic closed the library doors.
“Why does Vincent think you know who arranged the shooting?”
Frank exhaled.
“So we’re skipping coffee.”
“Yes.”
Frank sat.
Nobody else did.
“I don’t know who arranged it.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“But?”
“I know it wasn’t supposed to hit your shoulder.”
The room went silent.
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
“What was it supposed to hit?”
Frank looked at his right hand.
“Nothing.”
Antonio frowned.
Frank continued.
“The shooter wasn’t supposed to fire.”
Dominic stared.
Frank explained.
The warehouse ambush had begun as theater.
A staged attack.
One gunman.
A few shots into walls.
A vehicle positioned to escape.
Enough chaos to convince Dominic that rival crews were becoming aggressive.
The plan was supposed to make him tighten security and cancel several meetings.
“Why?” Dominic asked.
Frank looked ashamed.
“To isolate you.”
“Who told you this?”
“A man named Danny Costello.”
Dominic knew him.
Low-level associate.
Bookmaker.
Dead three months.
“Convenient.”
“I know.”
Frank rubbed his face.
“Danny came to me two weeks after the shooting. He was terrified.”
“He named Vincent?”
“No.”
“Sebastian?”
“No.”
“Then what did he say?”
“That someone paid for a fake ambush, but the shooter changed instructions that morning.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Changed them to what?”
Frank looked directly at him.
“To make it real.”
Nora felt Mia move closer.
Dominic noticed.
“Carlo.”
Carlo immediately opened the library door.
“Take Mia to the kitchen.”
Mia objected.
“I’m not a baby.”
Nora kissed her forehead.
“Go eat something.”
“I already ate.”
“Eat again.”
Mia looked at Dominic.
“Can I have the chocolate cake?”
Dominic answered without hesitation.
“All of it.”
Nora gave him a look.
Dominic shrugged.
“She earned leverage.”
For one strange second, Frank laughed.
The tension broke.
Only slightly.
After Mia left, Dominic returned to the shooting.
“If Danny knew the ambush was staged, why didn’t he come to me?”
“He thought someone inside your house was involved.”
Sebastian.
The implication hung there.
Frank continued.
“Danny said he had heard a name connected to the change in orders. But before he could tell me, he got scared. Said he needed time.”
“And then he died.”
“Car accident.”
Antonio muttered, “Which we now reconsider.”
Frank nodded.
Dominic walked toward the fireplace.
“What did you do after Danny told you?”
Frank looked miserable.
“Nothing.”
Dominic turned.
“Nothing?”
“I watched.”
“For four months?”
“I watched Vincent. Sebastian. Carlo. Antonio. Everybody.”
“And me?”
“Yes.”
Dominic laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“And when my hand started failing at dinners?”
“I thought the nerve damage was worse.”
“Exactly what someone wanted.”
Frank looked at Nora.
“Until her.”
Dominic followed his gaze.
Nora shifted uncomfortably.
Frank continued.
“The night she switched the fork, I noticed.”
“You said nothing.”
“I didn’t know why she did it.”
“You could have asked.”
“I wanted to see who reacted.”
Nora understood.
“Sebastian.”
Frank nodded.
“He looked furious.”
Dominic’s face tightened.
Frank leaned forward.
“That’s when I knew the weakness was being manufactured.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Frank’s answer came quietly.
“Because I wasn’t sure you’d believe me over the man you were marrying.”
The truth hurt because Dominic knew he might have been right.
Three weeks earlier, Sebastian could have told Dominic that Frank Bellini was plotting against him.
Dominic would have questioned Frank before he questioned Sebastian.
That realization sat heavily between them.
Nora saw Dominic flex his fingers.
Not because they shook.
Because he was angry at himself.
Antonio asked, “Who else knew about Danny?”
“Nobody.”
“Somebody did.”
“Yes.”
“Then how did Vincent learn you knew something?”
Frank’s expression went flat.
“I’ve been wondering that all day.”
Nora thought about the previous dinner.
Eleven captains.
Staff.
Peter.
Sebastian.
Vincent.
Then she remembered something.
“You had coffee with Sebastian three weeks ago.”
Frank looked at her.
“How do you know that?”
“You spilled espresso on the library rug.”
Frank blinked.
Nora continued.
“You told me not to tell the head housekeeper because she’d make you pay for cleaning.”
Antonio looked amused despite himself.
Frank pointed at Nora.
“She remembers everything.”
Dominic said, “That’s becoming useful.”
Nora ignored him.
“What did you talk about?”
Frank frowned.
“Dominic.”
“Anything else?”
“Danny.”
Dominic’s head snapped around.
Frank cursed under his breath.
“He asked why I’d been asking questions about Danny Costello’s crash.”
There it was.
Sebastian had known Frank was investigating.
Sebastian could have told Vincent.
Dominic’s face became cold.
“Bring Sebastian.”
He had remained inside the townhouse since Sunday.
Not a prisoner.
Not technically.
But two men stood outside his room.
Sebastian entered five minutes later.
He looked exhausted.
No tailored perfection now.
Open collar.
Unshaven.
Eyes red from lack of sleep.
Then he saw Frank.
Fear appeared.
Dominic noticed.
“Sit.”
Sebastian remained standing.
Dominic repeated it.
“Sit.”
He did.
Frank leaned back.
“You told Vincent I was asking about Danny.”
Sebastian stared at him.
“That isn’t a question.”
“No.”
Frank’s face tightened.
“It isn’t.”
Dominic spoke.
“Did you?”
Sebastian looked toward him.
“Yes.”
Nora felt the air leave the room.
Dominic closed his eyes briefly.
“Why?”
“Because Vincent already suspected Frank.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
Sebastian’s voice broke.
“Because Vincent was threatening you.”
“With what?”
“He said if I didn’t cooperate, he’d finish what happened at the warehouse.”
Dominic stared.
Sebastian’s breathing became uneven.
“You think I enjoyed any of this?”
“You made me look incompetent.”
“To keep you alive.”
“You helped the man who shot me.”
“I didn’t know he ordered the real shooting until later.”
“But afterward you helped him.”
Sebastian stood suddenly.
“Yes!”
Carlo moved.
Dominic held up a hand.
Sebastian’s composure was gone now.
“I watched you bleeding in an ambulance, Dominic.”
His voice cracked.
“I sat outside surgery believing you might die. Then Vincent came to me three days later and told me exactly how close the bullet had come to the artery in your neck.”
Nora’s stomach turned.
Sebastian continued.
“He said next time the shooter wouldn’t miss.”
Dominic stared at him.
“And you never thought to tell me?”
“I did.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew what you would do.”
“What?”
“You would go after him.”
“Yes.”
“And he had six captains quietly supporting him.”
Frank stood.
“Name them.”
Sebastian looked at him.
“No.”
Frank moved closer.
“Name them.”
“I don’t know all six.”
“Name the ones you know.”
Sebastian swallowed.
“Anthony Russo.”
Antonio cursed.
“Paul Caruso.”
Dominic’s jaw clenched.
“And?”
Sebastian hesitated.
“One more.”
“Who?”
Sebastian looked directly at Frank.
“You.”
Frank surged forward.
Carlo intercepted him.
“You lying little—”
“I’m not saying you were part of the shooting.”
Sebastian raised both hands.
“I’m saying Vincent told me you’d support removing Dominic.”
Frank stopped.
His face changed.
Dominic stared at him.
“Would you?”
Frank’s silence lasted one second too long.
That second destroyed twenty years of certainty.
Dominic stepped backward.
Frank looked at him.
“If you were permanently unable to lead—”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“That wasn’t the question.”
“I would protect the family.”
“From me.”
“If necessary.”
Nora watched Dominic absorb it.
This was the real plan.
Not one betrayal.
A room full of men being nudged slowly toward the same conclusion.
Dominic Santoro was damaged.
Dominic Santoro was unstable.
Dominic Santoro needed replacing.
Heavy forks.
Dropped glasses.
Whispers.
A frightened fiancé.
A wounded leader.
Vincent hadn’t needed every captain to betray Dominic.
He only needed them to believe removing him was reasonable.
Then Antonio’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Everyone turned.
Antonio ended the call.
“Vincent just called a meeting.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“With whom?”
“The captains.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Where?”
Antonio swallowed.
“At your father’s old restaurant.”
Dominic understood the insult immediately.
Vincent was not hiding anymore.
He was using the place where Dominic had first been introduced to the family as its future leader.
Frank whispered, “He’s forcing the vote.”
Dominic looked at his shaking right hand.
Then at Nora.
She knew what he was thinking.
If he walked into that room and failed physically, Vincent won.
If he stayed home, Vincent won faster.
Nora crossed toward the table.
She picked up the heavy fork.
Then she placed it in Dominic’s left hand.
“You know what they were doing now.”
Dominic looked at her.
She continued.
“So stop performing the version of you they prepared everyone to see.”
Dominic’s eyes changed.
For the first time since the shooting, someone had not told him to recover.
Not told him to be strong.
Not told him to prove anything.
Nora had told him to stop playing the game Vincent designed.
Dominic set the fork down.
Then he looked at Antonio.
“Call every captain.”
Antonio waited.
May you like
Dominic’s voice steadied.
“Tell them I’ll be there.”
