Chapter 8 - The Price of a Brother
Emily broke.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
She simply stared at the blood.
Then whispered, “No.”
Dante caught her before her knees hit the floor.
Vincent called three minutes later.
“Bring me the digital ledger.”
Dante answered.
“Let Leo go.”
Vincent laughed.
“Your secretary has made you sentimental.”
Emily took the phone.
“If you hurt him—”
“Midnight. Old Marino packing plant.”
The call ended.
Emily immediately said, “I’m going.”
“No.”
She turned on Dante.
“Do not mafia-boss me right now.”
“You are not walking into Vincent’s hands.”
“That is my brother.”
“And you are the woman I love.”
The words stopped them both.
Dante continued.
“I will not trade your life for his.”
Emily’s eyes burned.
“Then we don’t trade anyone.”
They created another plan.
The ledger contained enough evidence to destroy Vincent.
So Emily copied it.
Hundreds of copies.
Encrypted packages were scheduled for journalists, federal prosecutors, attorneys, and investigators.
If Vincent killed any of them, everything would be released.
At midnight, Emily entered the packing plant carrying the original drive.
Dante remained hidden.
Vincent waited beside Leo.
Leo was bruised but alive.
“You always were Leonard’s clever child,” Vincent said.
Emily held up the drive.
“Let him go.”
Vincent smiled.
“First the ledger.”
“No.”
His expression changed.
Emily had spent years managing unstable executives, frightened criminals, government auditors, medical administrators, and one terrifying mafia boss.
Vincent Marino did not impress her.
“You need me alive,” she said.
“Do I?”
“Yes. The files are encrypted.”
A lie.
But a convincing one.
Vincent approached.
“You know, Clara had your same problem.”
“What problem?”
“She thought intelligence made her untouchable.”
Emily’s fear disappeared.
“You killed her because she was smarter than you.”
His smile vanished.
There.
The wound.
Vincent had built his life around proving he deserved the throne.
Emily had reduced him to what he really was.
A jealous brother.
He struck her.
Dante nearly emerged.
But Emily recovered.
“You hit harder than Sal.”
Vincent stared.
“Sal hit you?”
“No. I just wanted to see whether you were stupid enough to believe that.”
Leo laughed.
Vincent turned.
That distraction was enough.
Emily threw the drive across the room.
Vincent instinctively followed it.
Leo dropped.
Dante’s men stormed the building.
Gunfire erupted.
Vincent ran.
Dante chased him onto the loading platform.
The brothers faced each other beneath cold industrial lights.
“You took everything from me,” Dante said.
Vincent smiled.
“No. I showed you what you really were.”
“You killed Clara.”
“Yes.”
“You killed Leonard.”
“Marco did.”
“You spent twelve years destroying everyone around me.”
Vincent raised his weapon.
“And I’d do it again.”
A shot rang out.
Dante staggered.
Emily screamed.
Vincent smiled.
Then looked down.
Blood spread across his own shirt.
Marco stood behind him.
He had escaped confinement.
His smoking gun remained raised.
Vincent collapsed.
Dante stared at Marco.
Marco whispered, “I owed Clara one.”
Police sirens approached.
Marco dropped his weapon.
For the first time in fifteen years, he surrendered.
But before federal agents entered, Vincent whispered something.
Dante crouched.
Vincent smiled through bloody teeth.
“You still don’t understand.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t the one who ordered Clara’s death.”
Dante froze.
Vincent coughed.
“I only approved it.”
“Who ordered it?”
Vincent whispered one name.
Dante’s entire face changed.
Because the name belonged to someone who had been dead for fourteen years.
May you like
Their father.
Antonio Marino.
