Chapter 3

At ten in the morning, the first incident occurred.

Marco, a street boss, pushed the door open. He clutched a turf agreement.

"Vittoria, the East Side crew wants to raise the street tax. You wrote this contract yourself back then, take a look."

"This contract isn't my responsibility," I said. "Go find Carlotta."

Marco froze.

"...Carlotta? She couldn't even count how many pages are in this stack."

"Then let her count," I replied without looking up.

He opened his mouth, stood there for a second, then turned and left.

At ten thirty, a call came in from Rico, the casino manager.

"Vittoria, the casino suppliers are backing out, and we're stuck on the penalty clause. I won't be able to open my doors tonight."

His voice was hushed. He sounded desperate.

"Follow the terms in your vendor contract," I said. "Ask the Chief Counsel to fix any loopholes. It's not my problem."

There was a long silence on the other end.

Finally, he forced out a dry, "Understood."

Things simply wouldn't calm down.

At eleven, a capo came over carrying a folder.

"Vittoria, the non-disclosure agreement for that deal down south needs to be re-signed. It was always you who..."

"I have my own contracts to review this afternoon," I said, keeping my eyes on my screen. "Re-signing NDAs isn't in my job description. Go ask Carlotta to handle it."

He stood in front of my desk in total shock.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

He walked away clutching that stack of useless papers. After two steps, he looked back at me like I was insane.

At two in the afternoon, Leo walked over with two cups of coffee and placed one on my desk.

"Vittoria, what's with you today? Several crews have been asking me about it. They say you're refusing to work."

I took a sip of my coffee.

"I'm only doing what I'm paid to do."

Leo opened his mouth, seeming to want to argue. But he eventually swallowed his words.

He looked at me.

After a moment, he gave a slight nod.

"I understand."

But things unraveled much faster than I expected.

In the afternoon, word got around that things went south.

Carlotta's junior lawyer went to negotiate a deal with our shadow bankers.

The NDA missed three critical clauses. The penalty clause was set at double the agreed figure.

The bank reps flipped out on the spot. They said the Rossi family was playing them for fools.

The partnership negotiations blew up. The casino manager was pacing the hallway like a rabid dog.

My phone started buzzing. I received three urgent texts in a row.

"Vittoria, I'm begging you. If that money doesn't hit the account, my casino is dead tonight."

"They said they're going to shoot up my place."

"Are you going to help or what?"

I looked at the screen.

But the contract in my hand was just getting to the final disclaimer clause.

I just unplugged my phone.

When it was time to clock out, I packed my things and prepared to leave. The whole floor was in chaos.

The whole family was scrambling over the collapsed partnership.

The hallways were filled with footsteps and angry arguments.

When I stood up, several pairs of eyes instantly turned my way.

Leo looked up from his cubicle across from me and gave a subtle nod.

I walked to the door and pressed the down button for the elevator.

Behind me, the casino manager roared in anger, "Vittoria, the bankers are still waiting for our explanation!"

"It's five thirty," I said without looking back. "We'll talk about it tomorrow morning when I'm on the clock."

I pushed open the doors and stepped out into the evening twilight.

Through the gap in the closing doors, I saw the manager's face. He was staring in sheer disbelief.

Back at my apartment, I tossed my phone onto the kitchen counter.

The encrypted family chat had already blown up with dozens of urgent alerts.

I didn't even spare them a glance.

I opened some red wine, took a hot bath, and sank into bed right at eleven.

For the first time in four years, I closed my eyes before midnight.

There were no emergency calls dragging me out of bed to go smooth things over in the black market.

There were no voice messages from Christian rushing me to settle those off-the-books accounts.

I lay in the darkness. The faint neon lights from outside quietly outlined the ceiling.

The heavy burden of family loyalty that I'd carried for four years finally shattered tonight.

I rolled over.

And slept incredibly soundly.

My fourth day of clocking out on time.

To be exact, my fourth workday of refusing to act as the family's firefighter.

The real storm broke.

I'd just punched in for the morning and hadn't even hung up my coat. Suddenly, the West Side capo burst in, sweating bullets.

"Vittoria, those crazy loan sharks turned up the heat. Now all the protection rackets on the West Side have been cut off. We tried keeping a lid on it for three days, but we can't."

The veins on his thick neck were bulging. His tie was askew like a hangman's noose.

"You used to handle the street tax all the time. Please come sort this out for us, I'm begging you."

"Loan shark disputes aren't my department. Go find Carlotta."

The old man's lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back.

He turned around and left.

Carlotta finally arrived in a rush an hour into the official workday.

Even so, it was one of the few times she made it to the office before lunch.

She was dressed in an expensive suit. Her perfume floated into the hallway before she did.

She slowed her pace as she walked past my door, glanced inside, and said nothing.