Chapter 7 - fractured loyalty
Dominic moved down the private express elevator leading to the subterranean vaults four levels beneath the tower. His black overcoat was unbuttoned, his hand resting firmly on the grip of his sidearm.
The heavy steel vault door stood ajar, a beam of warm yellow light spilling onto the cold concrete floor.
Dominic pushed the iron door open with his boot, stepping silently into the ancient stone chamber.
Sitting at the central mahogany table, flipping through a thick leather journal bound in brass, was Vincent Cole. He had removed his overcoat, sitting in his charcoal suit, a glass of bourbon resting beside an open iron box.
Vincent didn't jump or reach for his weapon. He slowly turned his head, looking at Dominic with a calm, weary expression.
"You always were too smart for your own good, Dominic," Vincent said quietly, setting the leather journal down. "Just like your father."
Dominic walked to the opposite side of the table, stopping three feet away. "You were like a father to me after Carmine died, Vincent. You taught me how to run this city."
"And your father treated me like a dog for thirty years!" Vincent snapped, his disciplined facade cracking as a deep, bitter rage flared in his dark eyes. "I built half of this empire! I pulled you out of that rat-infested apartment when you were eight years old! And what did Carmine leave me in his will? A security salary!"
"So you orchestrated the massacre of the Bellini family?" Dominic asked, his voice steady as granite.
"The Bellinis were going to hand those docks over to the Commission!" Vincent yelled. "I took what belonged to me! I saved Claire because I needed Marco's child to turn six years old to claim the legal title!"
"Lily isn't Marco's child, Vincent," Dominic said softly.
Vincent froze, his brow furrowing into sharp lines. "What did you say?"
Dominic reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a certified medical document he had recovered from Dr. Vance's files thirty minutes earlier—a document Vincent had never seen.
Dominic tossed the paper onto the journal between them. "Look at the blood panel from St. Jude's Hospital, Vincent."
Vincent picked up the paper with trembling hands. His eyes scanned the text, stopping at the bottom line.
The blood panel proved conclusively that Lily’s biological father was not Marco Vescari.
"If... if Marco wasn't her father..." Vincent stammered, his face turning pale under the halogen light, "then who...?"
Before Dominic could answer, the heavy steel vault door slammed shut behind them with a thunderous metallic bang.
The automated electronic locks engaged with a series of sharp mechanical clicks.
From the hallway speakers outside the vault, a deep, raspy voice chuckled darkly: "Thank you for gathering all the pieces in one room, gentlemen."
May you like
Dominic and Vincent both turned toward the iron door in shock.
The voice echoing through the speaker belonged to Julian Bellini—Claire's older brother, the man who had supposedly died in the warehouse fire seven years ago.
