Chapter 7 - The Trap in the Warehouse
An hour later, the mansion was secured.
The Valenti breach team had been completely wiped out. The dead body in the nursery was hauled away by Daniel’s cleanup crew, and the estate’s secondary tactical team sat posted at every corner of the property.
I stood in the basement holding cell under heavy guard, holding a cup of hot coffee in my hands.
Tommy sat on a metal bench inside the cell, his hands free, a damp towel pressed against a small bruise on his forehead. He looked small, terrified, and utterly ashamed as he looked up at me through the steel bars.
"Clara..." Tommy choked out, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry. I swear to God, Clara, I didn't mean to drag you into this."
"Why, Tommy?" I asked, my voice flat, cold, and heavy with disappointment. "Fifty thousand dollars? What did you buy?"
"I didn't buy anything!" Tommy cried, running his hands through his messy hair. "I took a five-thousand-dollar loan from a shark on 14th Street to pay off Dad's old medical bills! I signed a paper, Clara! But when I went to pay it back last week, Marco... Russo's underboss... he showed up with three guys. He said the interest was ten times higher. He changed the ledger to fifty grand and told me if I didn't pay by tonight, he'd put me in a box!"
I froze. "Marco?"
"Yeah!" Tommy insisted, tears spilling down his bruised face. "Marco set me up! He told me he was doing it on Russo's orders, but I swear, Clara, Marco took the cash I gave him and put it in his own coat pocket!"
My blood turned to liquid ice.
I turned around instantly, stepping out of the basement corridor and marching straight up the stone stairs toward Daniel’s private study.
The heavy mahogany doors to the study were standing half-open.
Inside, Daniel was sitting behind his massive desk, his shoulder freshly bandaged beneath a dark black shirt, listening to Marco report on the night's casualties.
"Boss," Marco was saying, his voice smooth and convincing. "Valenti came for the Jenkins kid because the kid was leaking our dock schedules to them. We should execute Tommy Jenkins now and clear the books."
"He's lying!" I shouted, slamming the study door fully open.
Marco spun around, his hand dropping to his holster, his eyes flashing with sudden rage. "Nurse, go back to the nursery—"
"Shut up, Marco!" I spat, marching right up to Daniel’s desk. "Your underboss is skimming your books, Daniel. He turned my brother's five-thousand-dollar debt into fifty thousand dollars, pocketed the cash, and handed Valenti the security codes to your front gate so they could kill Tommy before he talked!"
Marco’s face drained of all color. "Boss, she's lying! She's trying to save her brother!"
Daniel didn't say a word. He sat back in his heavy leather chair, his dark eyes shifting slowly from me to Marco.
The silence in the room stretched until it felt like a drawn bowstring ready to snap.
Slowly, Daniel reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thick leather ledger book—the estate's financial registry. He tossed it onto the desk between them.
"Marco," Daniel said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "Open page forty-two."
Marco hesitated. His hand trembled violently as he reached for the book.
"I said open it," Daniel growled.
Marco opened the page. Written in blue ink was Tommy Jenkins' debt entry—listed at fifty thousand dollars, stamped with Marco’s personal authorization code. But right beneath it was a second line, stamped three hours ago by Daniel’s private accountant: Original transfer amount: $5,000. Recipient account: Marco Rossi Offshore.
Daniel stood up.
He was taller, broader, and infinitely more dangerous than any man in that room. He didn't draw a weapon. He simply walked around the desk, stopping two feet from his lifelong underboss.
"You sold my gates to Valenti," Daniel murmured softly. "You put a hit team in my son's nursery... for forty-five thousand dollars?"
"Boss... please!" Marco sobbed, dropping to his knees on the Persian rug. "Valenti forced me! They had my family—"
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Daniel didn't let him finish the sentence.
He drew his weapon in a fluid motion and pulled the trigger once.
