Chapter 3

I hung up the phone, and with the static hum of the surveillance footage in the background, I opened a heavily encrypted website.

This was the Cappello family's offshore master ledger. I'd never had clearance to access it before.

In the footage, Julian was hunched over, tapping keys. Every frame captured exactly where his fingers landed.

I punched in the sequence I'd memorized and hit enter. The verification screen unlocked with a soft chime.

First, I opened the directory of Mia's trust assets.

What popped up in the center of the screen were equity structures for three ocean shipping companies.

Those three companies directly controlled every deep-water berth the Cappello family owned outside of Brooklyn.

Two years ago, the federal prosecutors and a rival outfit set me up together. I spent three months fighting it on the outside.

The day I got back to New York, Victor and Elena handed me an agreement.

Elena held my cold hand, her face full of affection and concern.

"Helena, you're too visible out there on the front lines."

"Better to transfer some of your public holdings to someone in the family with no criminal ties. That way, if anything blows up, it doesn't trace back to you."

I was touched. I thought they finally accepted me. So I signed.

But now, the screen showed the beneficiary of that offshore trust was Mia. Only Mia.

Mia is twenty-three this year. She can't even read a freight bill of lading.

But on the first of every month, four million two hundred thousand dollars in net profit from those three shipping companies flows automatically into her personal account.

I pulled up Julian's records next.

Back in the day, he'd been reckless, blew through money, got himself held by an underground casino. I was the one who paid off twenty-four million in loan shark gambling debts.

To keep up the image of the Cappello heir, I transferred three million a year from my personal dividends into his personal trust.

And now, the screen showed eight million flowing out of Julian's accounts in recent years, all into a seaside estate in the Hamptons.

The deed was registered under Mia's name.

Every piece of Danish hardwood furniture, every custom trellis in that estate, was paid for with a supplementary card under my name.

The massive monthly statements on that card were handled directly by my financial assistant. Auto-deducted.

I never asked questions before.

Because every time, Julian would kiss my forehead and say these were necessary expenses for the Cappello family to grease union dockworkers in the Bronx.

But the truth on the screen now shredded that lie completely.

The basement surveillance footage rolled right on cue, landing on last Christmas Eve.

My mother-in-law Elena sat elegantly with her teacup, her voice cold.

"Mia likes that Nordic-style estate with the heated seaside pool. Julian, tell finance to balance the purchase directly against the port dividends Helena controls. Keep the paperwork clean."

"Don't worry about saving Helena money. She lives out of that Manhattan office year-round. She doesn't spend a dime. Besides, footing the bill so her little sister can hold her own in Long Island society, that's just what a big sister does."

In the footage, Julian bent to pour Elena's tea, a faint smile on his face.

"Mother, don't worry. It's all taken care of."

"You and Mia just pick out whatever furnishings you like. Enjoy your afternoon tea in that garden."

I scrolled the mouse wheel. The cold data on screen flew downward.

In eight years, I laundered four hundred twenty million in compliant assets for the Cappello family. I fronted sixty-eight million in emergency payments across the board.

And in the end, my name held nothing but temporary residency rights to this second-floor study, and three co-signer signatures on a federal task force indictment.

The entire Cappello family had walked on my flesh and blood straight into luxury.

Mia sunbathed in the Long Island sea breeze.

Julian played the young, promising Don heir at Manhattan's elite galas.

Victor and Elena poured millions into renovating the ancestral castle back in the old country.

They feasted on my body, cracking the bones to suck out the marrow.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. I shut the laptop fast.

The study door pushed open. Julian walked in, one hand carrying a warm glass of milk.

"Helena, still working this late?"

He set the milk on the corner of the desk, his gaze brushing over the closed laptop shell, his voice gentle.

"You've got to check the ocean container intake forms first thing tomorrow. Get some rest."

He reached out, affectionate, going for my shoulder.

I smoothly picked up a pen from the desk, flipped open a report in front of me, dodging his touch.

"Julian."

My eyes stayed lowered, my voice flat.

"The Hamptons. Nice scenery out there, isn't it?"

Julian froze for a beat, then laughed, his expression easy.

"I heard people talk about it at galas. It's the top getaway for New York's elite. The seaside estates are especially beautiful."

"Once we get this tobacco smuggling compliance process wrapped up next month, I'm blocking off two weeks. I'll take you out there for a proper vacation."

He leaned down, looking at me, eyes tender and deep.

"You've done so much for this family over the years, Helena."

"This house couldn't run a single day without you."

"Father and Mother act strict, but deep down, they remember everything you've sacrificed."

I looked at that loving face and felt a chill crawl down my spine.

"Is that so?"

I lifted my head, met his gaze, and smiled faintly.

"Funny you mention it. At Sunday's family dinner, I've prepared a little gift for everyone too."

The last bit of wariness in Julian's eyes melted away. He smiled softly and turned to leave.

"You're always thinking of this family. Drink your milk while it's warm. Get some sleep. I'll go run your bath."

After he left, I picked up the warm glass of milk and walked to the sink.

The white liquid swirled down the drain.

I looked up at myself in the mirror. Pale face. No tears. A cold, clear smile spreading across my lips.

Three days until the feast.