Chapter 4

Ten minutes later, she issued a top-level internal memo to the family.

"Effective immediately, all legal requests from other crews must be reported to and exclusively approved by the Chief Counsel."

In plain English, it was a warning. No one was allowed to ask me for help. Deal with it.

Leo saw the message and turned his head to look at me.

I was more than happy with it. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

I waited for another hour or so, and the real show finally began.

A massive loophole blew up in the database for our international smuggling routes.

This wasn't the kind of minor friction you could smooth over by throwing money at it.

This was an absolute disaster. All smuggling routes were paralyzed. Massive payouts were frozen in offshore accounts.

Maintaining these shadow contracts was technically Carlotta's job.

But in reality?

For four years, every single draft, every single clause, and every single trap that even seasoned mobsters couldn't spot were buried in there by me alone.

I was the only one who truly knew those records inside out.

No one but me could locate that fatal flaw within two hours.

But this time, no one dared to come to me.

Carlotta sat in the conference room with her team. They investigated for a full five hours.

I sat at my desk, leisurely flipping through the files under my name. I could hear the arguing spilling out from the conference room.

The mess caused such an uproar that Christian called on the burner line.

Straight to Carlotta.

I'd listened to that voice for four years. In the middle of the night, he used to yell for me just like that. A single call of my name used to make me feel like risking my life for the family actually meant something. Now, listening to it, I felt nothing.

"Carlotta, what the hell are you doing? The smuggling routes are cut off, and Vargas just put a gun to my head!"

Carlotta's voice was weak. "Boss, we're looking into it. It'll be quick."

"How quick? Vargas says his cargo is stuck at sea and bleeding money! Do you not understand that this kingpin is the lifeblood of our family?!"

The call disconnected.

The conference room door was violently pulled open. Carlotta walked out, her face livid.

Her eyes swept across the entire legal floor before landing on me.

I stopped flipping through my files.

She walked over and stood in front of my desk. She planted her hands on the surface and leaned in. Her perfume was heavy in the air.

"Vittoria, you were the lead writer for these deals. There's no way you don't know which agreement is holding up those payments!"

I looked at her.

"International contracts are above my pay grade."

"Cut the crap," she hissed, lowering her voice. "Right now, Vargas has a gun to our heads. Do you want to sit and watch the family get slaughtered?"

I leaned back in my chair.

"Carlotta, that deal's records were streamlined by you. You took a thirty-five percent cut this year. That's the highest in the entire family."

Her face twitched.

It was so quiet you could hear the hum of the air conditioner.

"But you also got a cut."

"Where's my cut?" I cut her off. "Three percent?"

She instantly went mute.

I stopped looking at her and turned my eyes back to the screen.

"Please step aside. I need to work."

She stood frozen in place. Her face flushed dark red for a good ten seconds before she finally walked away.

Vargas didn't leave them much time. He quickly issued an ultimatum. If the payment didn't hit his account by sunset, he would shoot up the Rossi operations.

The entire legal building fell into total panic.

I looked down at my watch. Five twenty.

It was almost time to clock out.

I swept my personal items off the desk into my bag and stood up.

Leo looked up at me in shock.

"Vittoria..."

"It's almost time."

"There are still ten minutes."

Just as I took a step, the West Side capo lunged at me like a desperate man.

"Vittoria! Just give me a hint! Just one! You definitely know how to save my accounts!"

I stopped in my tracks and looked at him quietly.

He was nearly fifty. His body was covered in gunshot wounds. He would risk his life just to feed the boys working under his crew.

He wasn't like Carlotta, stealing credit. He was just a soldier bleeding and risking his life on the streets.

"Listen," I said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I left a backdoor in the contract for your cut of the street tax. You can route it to your private accounts without touching the family's main ledger."

He froze. His eyes lit up. Just as he was about to speak...

I was already out the door.

Half an hour later, Leo sent me a text. "The old man's money is safe. Exactly because of that backup clause you pointed out. Vittoria, you're absolutely amazing."

I just locked the screen and didn't reply.

By then, I'd already driven my car into my apartment's underground garage.

When I got home that night, I did one thing.

I opened the secret ledger hidden at the very bottom of my safe. I turned to a bookmarked page. A shredded piece of paper, barely held together by clear tape, fell out.

This was something Leo had pieced together while emptying the shredder today. He secretly slipped it to me.

The handwriting belonged to Christian. The date was three months before the launch of the new syndicate.

It contained only two sentences.

"Once the network is stable, she outlives her usefulness. Vittoria knows too much. Keeping her around will become a liability. Arrange an accident, or force her out empty-handed. Make it clean."

Arrange an accident, or force her out empty-handed.

I held this piece of paper and stared at it for a long time.

Police sirens drifted in from the distant streets. The refrigerator hummed in the background.

With the light of my phone screen reflecting on my face, I finally understood. Changing twenty-five percent to three was never about balancing interests.

They wanted me dead.

Cutting my money was the first step to weaken me.

Handing Carlotta the job to steal my power was the second step.

Using blood ties to push me out was the third step.

Step by step, they were bleeding me dry.

Once I was forced out with nothing, or died on the streets, they could comfortably sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labor.

"This is what happens to people who betray the family."

That was probably what they would tell the street.

I folded the paper and put it back in the ledger.

I lay in bed. Any lingering warmth in my eyes was completely dead.

For four years, I thought we were a family fighting side by side.

It turned out I was just a disposable watchdog.

Once I finished biting their enemies, they'd break my spine and toss me in the trash.

I exhaled slowly.

Fine.

Since you already wrote my script, don't blame me for flipping it and digging your graves.