Chapter 4 - THE POISONED TEA
Daniel kicked the door shut behind him, locking it with a sharp click.
Elena screamed, clutching little Mia to her chest.
Leo froze, terrified, dropping the brass key onto the plush carpet.
Vincent’s face was bruised, a thin line of blood trickling down his jaw, but his dark eyes were burning with lethal intensity.
“Let them go, Daniel,” Vincent growled, not taking his eyes off his younger brother. “You want the empire? Take it. But the women and children leave.”
Daniel chuckled, pressing the barrel harder against Vincent’s skull.
“You always were the noble one, Vinnie,” Daniel mocked. “But you and I both know I can’t leave loose ends. Especially not my little niece.”
He looked at Elena and sneered. “You should have stayed in New York, Elena. Now you’re going to die exactly like your sister did.”
“You monster,” Elena sobbed. “You poisoned her!”
“Actually,” Daniel smirked, “Sabrina poisoned her. Women are so much better at the subtle arts. A few drops of aconite in Isabella’s evening tea. By the time I put her in the car, her heart had already stopped.”
Vincent let out a feral roar and lunged backward, throwing his weight into Daniel.
The gun went off with a muffled thwip, the bullet burying itself in the ceiling plaster.
The two brothers crashed to the floor, knocking over a heavy bedside table.
“Emma, take them and run!” Vincent shouted, grappling for control of the weapon.
I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed Leo’s hand and pushed Elena toward the bathroom connecting doors.
But Daniel was younger, faster, and desperate. He kneed Vincent hard in the ribs, breaking free just enough to aim the gun at Elena’s back.
“Stop right there!” Daniel roared.
We froze.
“Pick up the key, housekeeper,” Daniel ordered, panting heavily.
I slowly turned around.
Vincent was struggling to get up, clutching his ribs.
I looked down at the brass key resting on the carpet.
“Pick it up!” Daniel snapped, leveling the gun at my chest.
I slowly bent down. My fingers brushed the cold metal.
But I didn’t just grab the key.
My hand closed around the heavy, solid brass fire-poker resting against the stone hearth right next to it.
I didn’t think about the consequences. I didn’t think about the mafia. I thought about the ten-year-old boy trembling behind me.
As I stood up, I swung the heavy brass rod with every ounce of strength in my body.
It struck Daniel’s wrist with a sickening crack.
Daniel screamed, dropping the gun.
Before he could recover, Vincent was on him.
Vincent didn’t use a weapon. He used his bare hands. He slammed Daniel against the wall, his massive hands wrapping around his brother’s throat.
“You killed my wife,” Vincent whispered, his voice sounding like grinding stones. “You stole my daughter. You threatened my son.”
Daniel choked, clawing uselessly at Vincent’s iron grip. His face was turning a dark, dangerous shade of purple.
“Vincent, stop!” I yelled.
Vincent didn’t hear me. He was completely lost to the grief and rage.
“Vincent, look at Leo!” I screamed.
Vincent froze.
He turned his head.
Leo was watching him, tears streaming down his face, clinging to his baby sister.
“Don’t be like him, Dad,” Leo whispered. “Mom wouldn’t want you to.”
Vincent stared at his son.
Slowly, agonizingly, Vincent released his grip.
Daniel collapsed to the floor, gasping and coughing for air.
Vincent kicked Daniel’s gun across the room, then pulled a zip-tie from his jacket pocket—a staple for a man in his profession—and bound his brother’s hands tightly behind his back.
“You’re going to spend the rest of your life in a hole so deep you’ll forget what the sun looks like,” Vincent promised.
He stood up and looked at me.
“Emma. Did you get the key?”
I nodded, holding up the brass key.
“Good,” Vincent said, wiping the blood from his jaw. “We’re going to the train station. We’re finishing this tonight.”
Before we could leave, Daniel let out a wet, mocking laugh from the floor.
“You think the key matters?” Daniel coughed. “You think Isabella’s little documents are going to save you?”
Vincent paused. “What are you talking about?”
“The trust isn’t just money, Vinnie,” Daniel smiled, showing bloody teeth. “Our father didn’t just leave Leo a bank account. He left him the ledger.”
Vincent’s face drained of color. “The ledger burned in the warehouse fire ten years ago.”
“That’s what Dad told the Five Families,” Daniel grinned. “But he lied. He hid it in the trust. And when Sabrina and I turn it over to the Commission tomorrow, they’re going to wipe you and your precious kids off the map.”
Vincent stared at him in horror.
I looked at the brass key in my hand.
“Mr. Caruso,” I asked quietly. “What is the ledger?”
Vincent swallowed hard.
“It’s a list,” Vincent said, his voice completely hollow. “A list of every federal judge, every senator, and every police commissioner my family has bribed for the last fifty years. If that gets out, the entire Chicago syndicate falls.”
Daniel laughed again.
“And you know who Sabrina is meeting right now to hand over those forged guardianship papers? The one man who wants that ledger more than anyone.”
Vincent grabbed Daniel by the collar. “Who?”
“Uncle Carmine,” Daniel smiled.
Vincent dropped him.
Carmine Caruso. The ruthless patriarch of the New York family. The man who had been trying to usurp Vincent’s territory for a decade.
“We have to get to the station before Sabrina does,” Vincent said, rushing toward the door.
But as he threw it open, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Standing in the hallway was a man in a pristine white suit.
May you like
Uncle Carmine.
And he was holding Sabrina Vale by her hair.
