Chapter 11

A WOMAN OF HER WORD

Pov: Carmela Carlo

There were two kinds of silence in this world. The silence of peace, and the silence before violence.

I stood in the middle of the warehouse off Kingsport Road, surrounded by pallets of shipments marked as imported kitchen equipment. Underneath the plastic wrap and customs stamps were locked crates filled with firearms-illegal, untraceable, and bought from a supplier who'd started asking the wrong kinds of questions.

"Get him in here," I said, voice cold.

Two men dragged the supplier in-Marco Lucetti. Younger than I expected. Mid-thirties, wide-eyed, and sweating through his collar. His mouth was duct-taped, his feet stumbling as they shoved him to his knees in front of me.

I didn't flinch.

"Remove it," I told Gino. He ripped the tape off.

" Big C, please!!" Marco gasped, lips already cracking. "Whatever you think I did-"

"You know what you did," I interrupted.

I stepped forward, my black boots echoing on the concrete floor. I wore black slacks, a charcoal blouse, gloves. Blood didn't stick to gloves.

"You sold us defective merchandise," I said. "And you spoke to someone in the Ferlini family about our drop points in Trenton."

Marco shook his head violently. "No-I didn't-I swear, I would never-"

"I have the recordings."

His words choked off.

I crouched to his level, tilting my head. "When I took over this family, they said I wasn't ready. They said my brother was the real leader. That I'd fall apart under pressure. But I learned quickly."

I smiled without warmth.

"They think kindness is weakness. But it's just strategy. Mercy is a tool, Marco. And I don't feel like using it today."

I stood again.

"Put him in the container," I said.

"We'll let the river decide how sorry he is."

Marco screamed, his eyes wide with terror as they pulled him toward the rear of the warehouse, past the crates and shadows. His frantic pleas for mercy ricocheted off the walls, but no one listened. Not even me.

The cold steel of the container door slammed shut behind him, and I felt nothing. He had sealed his fate the moment he chose greed over loyalty.

I turned to Gino. "Take care of it. Clean this up."

He nodded sharply, pulling out his phone to call in the cleanup crew.

Some minutes later - Carmela's Office

The warehouse always left a scent on me-grease, steel, and sweat. I changed quickly, poured myself a glass of red wine, and sat at my desk. The glass was smooth in my hand, almost delicate, but the thoughts racing in my mind were far from fragile.

The night was still young, but in my world, it was already over. We'd handled Marco, sent the message loud and clear. I'd gotten rid of a liability, and in this business, that was what mattered. You didn't give second chances. You only gave orders.

This was the cost of betrayal. The cost of survival.

And the Carlo name would not be dragged through the mud by cowards and rats.

I heard someone come in, I didn't turn. Only one person would dare enter my office without knocking. My father.

"You've got the Ferlini family backing off after the Trenton stunt," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "But there's talk in Philly. The Morenos might try to strike a deal with them."

"Let them talk," I said. "They'll listen louder when we shut down their next shipment route."

Vincenzo grinned. "You planning a hit?"

"I'm planning an inconvenience. We'll stall their logistics with the port authorities. Quietly."

He raised a brow. "You're colder than your father was."

I sipped the wine. "I had to be."

Vincenzo left with a smirk. I locked the door behind him and stood facing the framed photo on my wall. Me and Tony. He was ten, I was eight. We were both holding sparklers on the Fourth of July, cheeks red from laughter.

Tony had been the one with the easy charm. The protector. The heir.

And now he was a ghost.

I thought about the day I'd taken over. The way the men had looked at me around the long table, waiting to see if I'd crumble. I hadn't. I sat at the head and gave my first order before the funeral wreaths even wilted. I had no room to grieve.

Only to lead.

And now, every decision I made was in service of the Carlo name.

Later That Night - Carmela's Private Quarters

I lay in bed, unable to sleep.

Xavier Brooks lingered in my mind.

I didn't like distractions. And he was quickly becoming one.

He was good-better than I expected. In the kitchen and out of it. He moved through the estate like someone trying not to leave a footprint, and yet, his presence always echoed behind him.

He was careful. Thoughtful.

But he was also holding something back.

I knew it. The way his hands clenched sometimes when I asked about simple tasks. The way his eyes followed Gino whenever shipments were mentioned.

I'd asked him to handle the handoff in Bayonne. A test. Nothing illegal-not by my standards, anyway. Just a crate to be delivered and confirmation to be sent. No questions, no opening the cargo. If he did it without hesitation, he was in.

If not... then I'd know

Pov: Xavier Brooks

The moonlight cut through the blinds like slashes across the walls.

I sat on the edge of the bed, Carmela's instructions playing over in my head. The shipment. The delivery. No questions.

It was simple.

But that was the problem. It was too simple.

I had gone my whole life avoiding this kind of world. My mother worked two jobs to keep me from the streets. My mentors told me food could save a soul. I believed them.

But Carmela offered something those people never could-time.

Time for Ma.

Time to live instead of wait.

I stared at the man in the mirror. Still wearing the black shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. I didn't look like a gangster.

But maybe that was the point.

I picked up the burner phone she gave me. One tap would send the confirmation.

I pressed it.

The screen went black.

And I crossed a line I might never come back from.

Pov: Detective Diane Davis

I sat at my desk, scrolling through the reports that lay in front of me. The Ferlini family was becoming a bigger thorn in my side than I'd anticipated. But my focus wasn't entirely on them.

It was Xavier.

The phone call from him should have been the first sign.

I'd offered him a way out. A chance to expose the Carlo family from the inside. I had given him a way to help me bring down the mafia from within.

But I hadn't heard back.

I had expected a response. Some sign that he would accept. But he had remained silent. I leaned back in my chair, frustration boiling in my veins. He hadn't accepted my offer, hadn't even acknowledged it. And now I knew. He wasn't just ignoring me. He had made his choice.

Xavier Brooks had chosen the Carlo family.

And I was left with nothing but the bitter taste of betrayal.