Chapter 2 - THE MAN MY BROTHER WAS PAYING
For several seconds, nobody in the NICU moved.
Leo remained asleep against my chest.
His tiny cheek rested just below my collarbone, his breathing so shallow I could barely feel it.
Daniel Russo stared at his phone.
Then at me.
I could see the moment father disappeared and Mafia Boss returned.
His grief did not leave.
It hardened.
“Who was Michael paying?”
I whispered.
Daniel looked toward the physician.
“Give us the room.”
The doctor hesitated.
“This is still a NICU.”
“I know where I am.”
His voice stayed low.
That somehow made everyone move faster.
The physician looked at me.
“Rachel?”
I nodded.
“I’m okay.”
I wasn’t.
But Leo was.
That mattered more.
The door closed behind the last nurse.
Only Daniel, one guard named Victor, Leo, and I remained.
Daniel held his phone toward me.
A photograph filled the screen.
My brother Michael standing in the parking lot behind a South Side grocery store.
Across from him was a man I had never seen.
Gray jacket.
Baseball cap.
Thirty-something.
Thin.
Nervous-looking.
Michael was handing him an envelope.
“Who is he?”
Daniel asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Look again.”
“I said I don’t know.”
Victor stepped forward.
Daniel lifted one hand.
He stopped.
That habit of his.
One finger.
Entire rooms obeyed.
I hated it.
Daniel tapped the image.
“His name is Eric Nolan.”
“Should that mean something?”
“He works for a towing company.”
“Okay.”
“A towing company that recovered my wife’s SUV after the ambush.”
My stomach dropped.
Daniel continued.
“Nolan disappeared four days after Camille died.”
“Police?”
“Questioned him once.”
“And?”
“He said the vehicle was transferred before he saw it.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“That was a lie.”
Leo shifted slightly.
I adjusted him automatically.
Daniel noticed.
His voice lowered.
“Michael paid Nolan twelve thousand dollars.”
I stared.
“Twelve?”
“Yes.”
“Where would my brother get twelve thousand dollars?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“He borrowed it.”
“From your men.”
“Yes.”
The room seemed suddenly smaller.
“So the fifty thousand…”
“Wasn’t a gambling debt.”
“What was it?”
“Cash he took in pieces from people who loan money through businesses connected to mine.”
“He said he needed it for a private investment.”
My anger rose.
“Your people gave my brother fifty thousand dollars without checking why?”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
“That is not the part you should be angry about.”
“It is one part.”
He looked almost offended.
Good.
Then I asked:
“What did Nolan tell him?”
Daniel looked at his phone.
“That’s what I need Michael to tell me.”
My heart dropped.
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
I stopped breathing.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“He missed two collection meetings.”
“You sent people after him?”
“Yes.”
“Did they find him?”
“No.”
“When did anyone last see him?”
Daniel looked toward Victor.
Victor answered.
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Where?”
“Outside a motel in Cicero.”
“With who?”
“We don’t know.”
My chest tightened.
Michael had called me two nights earlier.
Said he was working late.
Said not to worry.
He had sounded exhausted.
I had yelled at him.
Told him I was sick of paying bills while he disappeared for days.
He had said:
I’m trying to fix something.
I thought he meant the money.
Maybe he did.
Just not the way I assumed.
“Give me my phone.”
Daniel frowned.
“Why?”
“I’m calling him.”
“If he answers, don’t tell him where you are.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t get to control my conversations.”
Daniel’s face went still.
Then Leo whimpered.
Both of us looked down.
I softened my arms.
He settled.
When I looked up again, Daniel seemed to remember where we were.
“You’re right.”
The apology surprised me.
“Call him.”
I dialed.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Third time.
Nothing.
I texted:
Michael, call me now. I don’t care about the money. I need to know you’re safe.
Daniel watched.
“Don’t mention me.”
“I didn’t.”
Then:
“Why were you investigating Camille’s death privately?”
His eyes darkened.
“I wasn’t.”
“What?”
“The police had the official investigation.”
“Then what were your men doing?”
“Looking for whoever ordered it.”
“That sounds like an investigation.”
“It’s different.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer.
Exactly.
I looked down at Leo.
“Your wife died two weeks ago.”
“Yes.”
“You have a premature baby in intensive care.”
“Yes.”
“And somewhere in between that, you have men chasing my brother for money while he’s buying information about your wife’s murder.”
Daniel stared.
“When you say it like that—”
“How else should I say it?”
Victor looked like he wanted to disappear.
Then Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He read.
His face changed.
“What?”
I asked.
“Michael’s car.”
“What about it?”
“Found.”
My knees went weak.
“Where?”
“Abandoned behind a closed warehouse near the river.”
“Blood?”
The word escaped before I could stop it.
Daniel answered immediately.
“No.”
Thank God.
“Phone?”
“No.”
“Wallet?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
Victor read another message.
“Passenger door open.”
“Glove box emptied.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“Michael may have been looking for more than Nolan.”
My throat tightened.
“Why?”
Daniel turned his phone.
A new photograph.
My brother’s car.
Front seat.
And on the passenger floor—
a small plastic evidence pouch.
Inside it was a piece of black fabric.
Burned at one edge.
Stamped with a gold crest.
Daniel stared.
“That belongs to one of my security teams.”
I felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
He did not answer immediately.
Then:
“It means someone wearing my colors may have been at the ambush.”
The room went silent.
Leo slept between us.
One tiny person.
Two adults staring at the possibility that the enemy was not outside Daniel Russo’s organization.
It was inside.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered before Daniel could stop me.
“Hello?”
Breathing.
Then Michael.
“Rachel?”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Michael.”
His voice was low.
Fast.
“Listen to me.”
“Where are you?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then come to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then:
“Because they know I talked to Nolan.”
I looked at Daniel.
He could hear enough from my face.
“Who knows?”
I asked.
Michael whispered:
“Daniel Russo’s own people.”
Daniel stepped closer.
I held out one hand.
Stop.
For once, somebody obeyed me.
“Michael, what did Nolan tell you?”
Long silence.
Then:
“He said Camille’s SUV was supposed to be moved before police processed it.”
My stomach turned.
“Who ordered that?”
“He didn’t know.”
“Then what did he know?”
Michael’s breathing changed.
“He saw somebody remove a tracking unit from beneath the rear bumper.”
Daniel’s face went cold.
“What kind?”
I asked.
“Not police.”
“Private.”
“Military-grade.”
“And?”
Michael whispered:
“He recognized the man who took it.”
“Who?”
Silence.
Then:
“Daniel’s head of security.”
Victor froze.
Daniel’s entire body went still.
I looked at Victor.
His face had drained white.
“No.”
Victor whispered.
Daniel turned slowly toward him.
“Who?”
I asked.
Michael answered.
“Leonard Russo.”
The name meant nothing to me.
It meant everything to Daniel.
He closed his eyes.
“My uncle.”
Then Michael said:
“Rachel, don’t trust anyone around Daniel.”
His voice cracked.
“Not even family.”
The line went dead.
And Leo began to cry.
Not screaming this time.
Just one thin, frightened sound.
I held him tighter.
Daniel stared at the phone in my hand.
His wife was dead.
His son was fragile.
His brother? No.
Uncle.
May you like
Family.
And somewhere in Chicago, my own brother was hiding because he had uncovered something a Mafia family had spent two weeks refusing to see.
