Chapter 5 - WHO ORDERED THE HIT
Dominic laughed.
Too loudly.
“No.”
Vincent watched.
“Again.”
“I did not order the shooting.”
“Did you know about it?”
“No.”
“Did you benefit?”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“Obviously.”
Honest enough.
Vincent continued.
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who was I meeting that night?”
Dominic frowned.
“Pier restaurant.”
“With?”
“Alberto Russo.”
Arya’s uncle.
“Why?”
“Dock dispute.”
Vincent remembered.
He had left through the rear kitchen.
A shot from above.
One.
Precise.
Lower back.
Shooter vanished.
No second bullet.
No attempt to kill Frank.
Not assassination?
Maybe disabling.
Tessa stood near the medication table.
Quiet.
Dominic looked at her.
“This doesn’t concern staff.”
Vincent answered:
“She stays.”
Dominic’s face twisted.
“You trust a maid over your own blood?”
Vincent stared.
“Today?”
“Yes.”
That shut him up.
Vincent asked:
“Who knew my route?”
“Security.”
“Family.”
“Arya?”
“Yes.”
“Dr. Lemmon?”
“Why would he?”
“I asked.”
“No.”
Vincent looked at Frank.
“Pull the restaurant route records.”
Frank nodded.
Dominic said:
“You’re chasing ghosts.”
“Maybe.”
Then Vincent looked at him.
“You borrowed thirty million against Atlantic Towers.”
Dominic’s face tightened.
“I was going to replace it.”
“With Harbor Point.”
“Yes.”
“Through Serrano.”
“He had liquidity.”
“He has stolen from our people.”
Dominic slammed his hand on the table.
“And you were lying in this bed while payroll came due!”
Silence.
There it was.
The resentment.
“I kept the organization alive.”
Vincent’s voice stayed quiet.
“You buried losses.”
“I bought time.”
“You forged board notices.”
“Because you wouldn’t sign.”
“You sedated me.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“I did not.”
“Paid Lemmon.”
“For evaluation.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to know whether you were ever coming back.”
Vincent stared.
“I never left.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“You can say that all you want.”
His eyes went toward the wheelchair.
“You can’t walk into a union hall.”
“Can’t stand in a dockyard.”
“Can’t chase a man.”
“Can’t—”
Vincent’s voice cut through.
“Can think.”
Dominic stopped.
“Can read.”
Silence.
“Can decide.”
Dominic looked away.
Vincent continued.
“You didn’t need me physically weak.”
“You needed everyone to believe weakness made me irrelevant.”
Dominic said nothing.
Then Tessa spoke.
“His heart rate is up.”
Both men looked at her.
She stared at Vincent.
“Breathe.”
Dominic laughed.
“She tells you to breathe now?”
Vincent inhaled slowly.
Then:
“Yes.”
That seemed to bother Dominic more than anything.
Frank’s phone buzzed.
He looked.
Then his face changed.
“What?”
Vincent asked.
“Route logs.”
“And?”
“Your car route changed twenty minutes before the shooting.”
Vincent went still.
“By who?”
“Dispatch override.”
“Account?”
Frank looked at Dominic.
The room froze.
Dominic’s face changed.
“No.”
Vincent stared.
“Your account.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Who had your password?”
“Assistants.”
“Arya?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Dominic looked genuinely frightened now.
“My chief of staff.”
“Name.”
“Eddie Falco.”
Vincent knew Eddie.
Forty-five.
Quiet.
Had handled Dominic’s schedules for eight years.
“Where is he?”
Dominic looked at Frank.
“Office.”
Frank made one call.
No answer.
Second.
Nothing.
Then:
“His apartment.”
A guard was sent.
Twenty minutes later:
Empty.
Closets half cleared.
Passport missing.
Vincent felt the case shift.
“Falco.”
Dominic whispered:
“No.”
“What?”
“He knew about the debt.”
Vincent stared.
“How much?”
“All.”
“Harbor Point?”
“Yes.”
“Serrano?”
“Yes.”
“Doctor?”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“He arranged Lemmon.”
Tessa looked at Vincent.
Dominic continued.
“I told Eddie I needed a medical opinion.”
“Did you tell him to increase medication?”
“No.”
“Can you prove that?”
“No.”
Vincent watched his cousin.
Maybe Dominic had not orchestrated everything.
Maybe he opened the door and someone else walked through.
Frank’s phone rang again.
Guard at Eddie’s apartment.
They found a burner phone.
Not destroyed.
Hidden under kitchen sink.
Messages.
One contact:
J.S.
Joseph Serrano.
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
Frank read:
V WILL TAKE EAST ROUTE.
Then:
ONE SHOT. NOT HEAD.
Silence.
Tessa looked sick.
Vincent felt cold.
Not kill.
Disable.
One shot.
Not head.
Frank continued.
AFTERWARD D TAKES OPERATIONS.
D.
Dominic.
Dominic went pale.
“I didn’t know.”
Vincent stared.
“Maybe.”
“I swear.”
“Don’t swear.”
Dominic’s voice cracked.
“I wanted control.”
There.
“I wanted you out of decisions.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were finished.”
“Yes.”
“I stole.”
“Yes.”
“I lied.”
“Yes.”
“But I did not have you shot.”
Vincent watched him.
Believed some.
Not all.
Then another message:
ARYA WILL KEEP HIM QUIET.
Dominic stopped breathing.
Tessa whispered:
“She knew?”
Vincent’s stomach twisted.
Did Arya know before?
She had denied.
Maybe lie.
Maybe Serrano assumed.
Another message:
DOCTOR HANDLED.
Vincent looked toward Frank.
“Find Lemmon.”
“He resigned.”
“Find him.”
Within hours, NYPD and federal contacts were involved.
Vincent did something old Vincent would have hated.
He handed over evidence.
Not all family secrets.
Enough.
Serrano’s scheme was bigger.
He had been desperate to acquire Harbor Point because the waterfront would give his logistics companies access to customs-cleared storage.
The shooting was designed to remove Vincent from active control without creating the blood war a murder would trigger.
A dead Vincent would invite revenge.
A paralyzed Vincent?
He could be portrayed as weak.
Replaced gradually.
Elegant.
Cruel.
And Dominic’s ambition made him the perfect beneficiary.
Whether Dominic knew beforehand remained unclear.
Then police found Eddie Falco.
Not at airport.
At a motel in Newark.
Alive.
Scared.
He started talking within twelve hours.
Serrano paid him $500,000.
Dr. Lemmon received money through consulting contracts.
The shooter was a former private-security marksman named Troy Keene.
Alive.
In Arizona.
Arya?
Eddie said:
“She knew after.”
Vincent’s chest tightened.
“When?”
“Two days after the shooting.”
“Did she know Serrano ordered it?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell Dominic?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Serrano threatened her family.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Complication.
Again.
Arya had betrayed him.
But maybe also been afraid.
“What did Serrano demand?”
“That she keep Vincent dependent.”
Tessa looked away.
Vincent asked:
“Medication?”
“Eddie said Arya introduced Lemmon to Dominic.”
There.
Dominic stared at the floor.
“I thought the doctor was legitimate.”
Vincent believed him more now.
Still guilty of corruption.
Not attempted murder.
Tessa whispered:
“Arya knew somebody shot you on purpose to keep you out.”
“Yes.”
Vincent’s voice sounded dead.
“And stayed.”
“Yes.”
That hurt more than the affair.
She had looked at his body every day and known the paralysis was engineered.
Then helped preserve it.
Vincent asked Frank:
“Where is Arya?”
“Russo house.”
“Do not touch her.”
Frank nodded.
Dominic looked surprised.
“You’re letting her go?”
“No.”
Vincent stared.
“I’m letting law deal with what law can prove.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“You really did change.”
Vincent looked toward Tessa.
Maybe.
Then he looked back at his cousin.
“Your turn.”
Dominic froze.
“You stole from the company.”
“Yes.”
“Forged records.”
“Yes.”
“Used my medical condition to seize authority.”
“Yes.”
Vincent’s voice stayed calm.
“You’re out.”
Dominic’s face collapsed.
“From what?”
“Everything.”
“You can’t.”
“I can.”
“Vince.”
“You’re family.”
Dominic’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“That’s why you’re leaving alive with a lawyer.”
Silence.
Vincent continued.
“You’ll repay what you can.”
“And after?”
“After, you decide whether being family means something other than access to my money.”
Dominic stared.
Then nodded slowly.
He left.
No beating.
No basement.
No vanished cousin.
Tessa waited until the door closed.
Then:
“You okay?”
Vincent laughed weakly.
“No.”
She nodded.
“Good answer.”
He looked at her.
Everyone closest to him had lied.
Arya.
Dominic.
Doctor.
Staff.
Maybe even Frank had missed things.
Tessa alone had told him when his foot swelled.
When medication looked wrong.
When anger was making him stupid.
Tiny truths.
Daily.
Vincent said:
“Why did you tell me about Dominic coming upstairs?”
She shrugged.
“Because you asked.”
“No.”
He stared.
“Most people in this house weigh what truth will cost them first.”
Tessa’s expression softened.
“I’ve been poor too long to afford complicated lies.”
He smiled.
Then saw her wince as she checked her phone.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tessa.”
She hesitated.
“My sister’s in the ER.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“Go.”
“I’m on shift.”
“Go.”
“I need the hours.”
“You’ll be paid.”
Her face hardened.
“No charity.”
“It isn’t charity.”
“You don’t get to turn every problem into money.”
Vincent stopped.
Again.
Lesson.
“What do you need?”
Tessa looked at him.
“A ride.”
Vincent pressed the call button.
“Frank.”
Frank entered.
“Car for Tessa.”
She grabbed her bag.
Vincent asked:
“Is your sister going to be okay?”
Tessa looked frightened for the first time.
“I don’t know.”
Then she left.
May you like
Vincent stared at the doorway.
And realized the most important person in his room had a life he knew almost nothing about.
