Chapter 13 - THE RECKONING WITH DOMINIC RUSSO
Dominic Russo slowly raised his hands into the air, his calm facade cracking to reveal the terrified old coward beneath.
"Adrian... you have to understand the bigger picture," Dominic stammered, his polished voice shaking.
"The Chicago Outfit was crumbling under your romantic distractions," Dominic attempted to justify.
"You spent six years pining over Dr. Carter while New York consolidated all the eastern ports," Dominic argued.
"You refused to authorize the drug corridors through the south side," Dominic accused.
"You wanted to turn this empire into a clean, legitimate logistics conglomerate," Dominic sneered with disgust.
"And you think dealing poison and kidnapping toddlers is a superior business model, Dominic?" I interjected, stepping forward with my weapon still raised.
Dominic turned his eyes toward me, a vile sneer curling his thin lips.
"You were always his weakness, Evelyn," Dominic spat.
"From the day he brought you to the estate, you infected him with your civilian morals," Dominic hissed.
"I had to draft those divorce papers," Dominic confessed proudly.
"I told Adrian that you took five million dollars and boarded a flight to Europe because you couldn't stomach the blood on his hands," Dominic revealed.
Adrian's jaw tightened until the skin over his cheekbones looked ready to tear.
"You told me she took money to leave me?" Adrian whispered, his voice shaking with a decade of suppressed agony.
"Of course I did!" Dominic laughed hysterically.
"And he believed it because he knew deep down that an angel like you could never truly love a butcher like him!" Dominic gloated.
"And what did you tell the Five Families in New York, Dominic?" I asked, pulling the blood-stained titanium flash drive from my coat pocket.
Dominic's eyes bugged out of his head the moment he saw the drive in my palm.
All the color drained from his face, leaving him looking like an unmasked corpse.
"Where... where did you get that?" Dominic choked out.
"Vanessa gave it to us before she died in the medical wing," I answered, holding the drive higher.
"She preserved the complete offshore audit trail," I explained coldly.
"You didn't just sell Chicago to the Luciano family, Dominic," I revealed.
"You've been skimming forty percent off New York's import tariffs and laundering it through private numbered accounts in Zurich," I said.
"If Don Luciano sees what is on this drive, you won't live long enough to stand trial," I informed him.
Dominic lunged forward in a desperate, frantic bid to snatch the drive from my fingers.
Adrian moved with lightning speed, catching Dominic by the throat with his bare hand and slamming him against the titanium vault door.
The impact knocked the breath from the old consigliere's lungs in a violent wheeze.
Adrian pinned him to the steel, leaning in until their faces were inches apart.
"My father made you take an oath on the family bible when you were twenty years old," Adrian growled softly.
"You swore that blood protected blood," Adrian reminded him.
"And you broke that oath the moment you pointed a gun at my son and daughter," Adrian declared.
"Adrian... please... think of the syndicate code!" Dominic begged, his face turning purple under Adrian's iron grip.
"I am the syndicate," Adrian replied without mercy.
Adrian released his throat, allowing Dominic to collapse onto his knees on the ruined carpet.
Without looking away, Adrian raised his sidearm and ended twenty-five years of betrayal with a single, deafening shot.
Dominic Russo crumpled silently to the floor, motionless.
I stood frozen, the harsh sound of gunfire echoing in my ears as the heavy silence descended once more.
Adrian turned slowly, lowering his weapon as his eyes met mine.
There was no triumph on his face, only an overwhelming, agonizing exhaustion.
He turned toward the panic vault, pulling a sterile wipe from his pocket to clean his thumb before pressing it firmly against the biometric glass scanner.
"Evelyn Moretti," Adrian spoke into the voice recognition receiver.
"Master override code: Cambridge, November twenty-seventh," Adrian whispered.
The date of the day he had first proposed to me seven years ago.
The heavy hydraulic seals hissed loudly, and the six-inch titanium door swung smoothly outward.
Inside the softly lit vault room, Noah and Lily were huddled together beneath a heavy fleece blanket in the corner.
Noah held a heavy brass paperweight raised high above his head, ready to fight whoever entered.
When his little gray eyes recognized me, the brass paperweight dropped onto the carpet with a soft thud.
"Mommy!" Lily shrieked, bursting into tears and launching herself out of the vault into my waiting arms.
I dropped to my knees, wrapping both arms around my daughter and pulling her tightly against my chest, sobbing into her hair.
Noah ran forward a second later, throwing his arms around my neck, his little body trembling with relief.
"I kept her safe, Mommy," Noah whispered against my ear, trying desperately to sound brave like a grown man.
"I kept Lily quiet the whole time," Noah said proudly.
"I know you did, my brave boy," I cried, kissing the top of his head over and over.
"You did so good," I wept.
Adrian knelt down beside us on the blood-spattered carpet, keeping a respectful distance of two feet, his hands resting on his knees.
His imposing shoulders were shaking as silent, heavy tears tracked through the soot on his cheeks.
Noah pulled away from my neck, looking at the tall, dark-haired man kneeling before them.
"Are the bad people gone, mister?" Noah asked softly.
Adrian swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, offering a trembling, broken smile.
"They're gone, Noah," Adrian whispered hoarsely.
"They will never come back," Adrian vowed.
Lily turned her head from my shoulder, reaching out one tiny, cautious hand toward Adrian's face.
Adrian froze, terrified that any sudden movement might frighten her away.
Lily's small, warm fingers gently touched the dark bruise along Adrian's jawline.
"Does it hurt?" Lily asked innocently.
Adrian's breath broke on a ragged sob as he leaned his cheek into the palm of his daughter's tiny hand.
May you like
"Not anymore, sweetheart," Adrian whispered, closing his eyes.
"Not anymore," he repeated.
