Chapter 6 - The Trap
The plan required Victor to believe Nick was desperate.
That part was easy.
By noon, rumors spread through Brooklyn that Nick Santoro had lost control.
Two captains defected publicly.
A Santoro warehouse stopped operations.
Three shipping contracts were canceled.
Victor interpreted every move exactly as Nick intended.
He thought the empire was collapsing.
In reality, Nick was separating legitimate operations from the criminal network Victor had contaminated.
Rachel watched from the apartment as phones rang continuously.
For the first time, she understood Nick’s real power.
It wasn't his gun.
It was the way people listened when he spoke.
Yet he never raised his voice.
At 3:00 p.m., Nick called every captain still loyal to him.
“No retaliation. No civilians. No street war.”
One captain protested.
“Victor killed your father.”
“I know.”
“And you're letting him breathe?”
“For now.”
Nick looked at Rachel.
“We're ending this without filling Brooklyn with bodies.”
Rachel looked away before he noticed how deeply those words affected her.
But he noticed.
By evening, Anthony had copied Daniel’s evidence and placed it in three separate locations.
One package went to a federal prosecutor Daniel had once trusted.
Another went to an investigative journalist.
The third was scheduled for automatic release if Nick failed to cancel it within twenty-four hours.
Victor could no longer bury the evidence by killing them.
But they still needed one thing.
Victor admitting what he had done.
Rachel volunteered to get it.
Nick refused immediately.
“No.”
“He wants me.”
“Exactly.”
“He thinks I'm leverage.”
“Which is why you're not going anywhere near him.”
Rachel folded her arms.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I'll think of one.”
“That means no.”
“It means I'm not using you as bait.”
“I'm volunteering.”
“No.”
Anthony quietly left the room.
Rachel glared.
“You don't own me.”
“I know.”
“Then stop deciding for me.”
Nick stepped closer.
“Do you understand what Victor will do if something goes wrong?”
“Yes.”
“No, you don't.”
His voice cracked with anger.
“He killed your father. He killed mine. He threatened my mother. He won't hesitate.”
Rachel’s expression softened.
“This isn't about the plan.”
Nick went silent.
“You're scared.”
“I don't get scared.”
“Liar.”
She stepped closer.
“You're terrified something will happen to me.”
Nick looked at her for a long moment.
“Yes.”
The answer silenced her.
His voice dropped.
“I've spent my entire life knowing exactly what I could afford to lose.”
Rachel's heartbeat quickened.
“And?”
“Then you handed me a napkin.”
Neither moved.
Rachel whispered, “That was a terrible tip.”
Nick kissed her.
It wasn't polished.
It wasn't careful.
It was the kiss of two exhausted people who had spent days outrunning death and months, perhaps years, forgetting what it felt like to need anyone.
Then Nick pulled away.
His forehead rested against hers.
“This changes nothing.”
Rachel smiled faintly.
“Romantic.”
“You're still not doing it.”
“Then it definitely changes nothing.”
She walked away.
Three hours later, Rachel surrendered herself to Victor Santoro.
Not literally.
Anthony arranged a fake argument outside a Santoro-owned warehouse.
Victor's surveillance caught Rachel storming away from Nick.
Twenty minutes later, Victor's men intercepted her.
Exactly as planned.
What Victor did not know was that Rachel wore a transmitter beneath her coat.
She was taken to an abandoned social club in Bensonhurst.
Victor waited upstairs.
Rachel had imagined a monster.
Instead, she found a handsome sixty-year-old man wearing an immaculate charcoal suit.
He poured himself whiskey.
“Rachel Adams.”
“You killed my father.”
Victor smiled.
“No introductions?”
“I already know enough.”
He gestured toward a chair.
She remained standing.
“Daniel was stubborn.”
“He was honest.”
“Same disease, sometimes.”
Rachel's nails pressed into her palms.
Victor continued.
“He could have taken the money.”
“So you killed him.”
Victor sipped his whiskey.
“He gave me no choice.”
Miles away, Nick listened through headphones.
His face went still.
Anthony recorded everything.
Rachel pushed.
“And Nick’s father?”
Victor smiled.
“That was more difficult.”
Nick closed his eyes.
“He was my brother.”
Rachel said, “You poisoned him.”
Victor looked almost nostalgic.
“Slowly. Small doses. He thought his heart was failing.”
Nick ripped off one headphone.
Anthony grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
Back inside the club, Victor approached Rachel.
“The ledger.”
“Somewhere you'll never find it.”
His smile disappeared.
“Then you're useless.”
Rachel heard footsteps behind her.
Too many.
The plan had accounted for four guards.
Nick’s lookout counted eleven.
Then Anthony's phone buzzed.
His face changed.
“What?”
Anthony stared at the screen.
“We've got a problem.”
“Say it.”
“Victor moved your mother.”
Nick froze.
“What?”
“Teresa isn't at the safe house.”
Victor's voice came through Rachel's transmitter.
“I knew Nicholas would send you wearing a wire.”
Rachel went cold.
Victor reached toward her collar.
He removed the transmitter.
Then smiled directly into it.
“Nicholas, if you're listening, I have two women you care about now.”
A second door opened.
Teresa Santoro was pushed into the room.
Rachel’s face drained.
Victor crushed the transmitter beneath his shoe.
The audio died.
Nick stood.
Anthony saw something in his face that frightened him.
“Nick.”
Nick picked up his coat.
“Get every man we have.”
“What are you going to do?”
Nick chambered a round.
“What my uncle has been waiting thirty-five years for.”
May you like
He looked toward the door.
“I'm going home.”
