Chapter 8 - THE RECKONING
The rain battered against the concrete pier, but all I could hear was the echoing ring of David’s words.
Henry Romano ordered the hit on your father.
I slowly turned to look at Nicholas.
His face was pale, rain flattening his dark hair against his forehead. The blood from his shoulder wound was seeping through his jacket, turning the heavy fabric a terrifying shade of crimson.
“Is it true?” I whispered, my voice trembling so violently I could barely form the words. “Did your father order his death?”
Nicholas didn't lower his gun. He kept it aimed squarely between David’s eyes.
“Don't listen to him, Anna,” Nicholas said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
Vincent cackled, leaning heavily on his silver cane. “Oh, tell the girl the truth, Nicky! Henry found out Thomas was stealing the ledger. Henry thought Thomas was going to the FBI. Henry gave the order to take him out. It was only after Thomas was in the water that Henry realized Thomas was trying to protect the boy!”
My stomach dropped into a bottomless abyss. The man I had been mourning, the man whose coat hung in the Romano hallway, the man Margaret worshipped... had ordered my father’s murder.
I stumbled backward, clutching the ledger to my chest.
“You lied to me,” I choked out, looking at Nicholas. “You said he died trying to save him!”
“He did!” Nicholas yelled, finally looking at me, his dark eyes pleading. “My father gave the order, yes! But when he found out about Leo, when he realized your father wasn't a rat but a protector... my father went into the water himself! He tried to save him, Anna! He died inside from the guilt of what he’d done!”
“Touching,” David sneered, tightening his grip on Leo’s jacket. The little boy was sobbing, his small shoes slipping on the wet concrete near the edge of the pier. “But the book belongs to Vincent now. Toss it over, Anna, or I drop the kid in the water. Just like Grandpa Tommy.”
I looked at Leo. My sister’s son. The last piece of my family.
I looked at the ledger in my hands. The proof that could destroy Vincent.
“Throw it, Anna!” Vincent demanded.
I took a deep breath, the freezing rain mixing with my tears.
“Okay,” I yelled over the storm. “Okay, take it!”
I raised my arm and threw the leather notebook into the air.
But I didn't throw it toward Vincent.
I threw it straight off the side of the pier, into the churning, freezing black water of the river.
“NO!” Vincent screamed, lunging forward with his cane.
David’s head snapped toward the water, his grip on Leo loosening for just a fraction of a second.
That was all Nicholas needed.
Despite the bullet hole in his shoulder, Nicholas moved with explosive, terrifying speed. He didn't shoot. He lunged across the wet concrete, tackling David with the full force of his massive frame.
The two men crashed onto the ground. David’s gun fired into the air, a deafening crack that echoed across the shipyard.
Leo fell backward, sliding toward the edge of the pier.
“Leo!” I screamed, diving forward.
I slid across the rough concrete, tearing the skin off my knees, and grabbed Leo’s small hand just as his legs slipped over the edge of the pier.
I pulled with every ounce of strength I had, dragging the sobbing boy back onto the solid ground, wrapping my arms around him and burying his face into my neck.
A few feet away, Nicholas had David pinned to the ground. Nicholas raised his heavy fist and brought it down across David’s jaw. The sick crunch of bone echoed over the rain, and David went completely limp.
Nicholas stood up, swaying slightly, his chest heaving. He pointed his gun directly at his Uncle Vincent.
Vincent was kneeling near the edge of the pier, staring down at the dark water where the ledger had disappeared.
“You stupid girl,” Vincent whispered, looking up at me with pure hatred. “You destroyed the only leverage you had.”
“I didn't need leverage,” I said fiercely, holding Leo tight. “I just needed you distracted.”
Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires filled the shipyard.
Half a dozen black SUVs tore through the gates, completely surrounding us. The headlights blinded me. Car doors slammed open, and dozens of men poured out, weapons raised.
But they weren't Nicholas’s men.
And they weren't Vincent’s men.
They were wearing windbreakers with bold yellow letters across the back.
FBI.
Vincent’s face went entirely slack. He dropped his cane, his hands shaking.
A tall man in a suit stepped out of the lead car, holding a badge.
“Vincent Romano. You are under arrest for racketeering, extortion, and the murder of Sarah Russo.”
Vincent whipped his head toward Nicholas. “You rat! You called the Feds?”
Nicholas lowered his gun, his face completely exhausted but victorious.
“I didn't call them tonight, Uncle,” Nicholas said coldly. “I called them three years ago. When my father died, I made a deal to hand you over. The ledger was just the final piece of evidence they needed.”
Vincent laughed bitterly. “But the girl threw it in the river! You have nothing!”
I stood up, holding Leo’s hand.
May you like
I reached into my soaking wet coat pocket, unzipped a hidden lining, and pulled out a small USB drive.
“My father was a bookkeeper,” I said, my voice steady and strong. “You really think he didn't make a digital backup?”
