Chapter 3 - An Impossible Betrayal Inside the Falcone Bloodline
Dominic walked out of the bedroom, his eyes burning with a terrifying, calm
rage. He did not yell. He did not smash furniture. When Dominic Valente was at
his most lethal, he became utterly silent.
He descended the stairs into the main hall where Marco was reviewing the night
security logs.
“Call Lorenzo,” Dominic ordered.
Marco looked up, surprised by the chilling tone. “Sir? It’s past two in the
morning.”
“Tell him there is an emergency at the docks. Tell him I need him here in twenty
minutes.”
Marco dialed immediately. Within twenty-five minutes, Lorenzo Valente—Dominic’s
first cousin and overseer of the southern warehouses—rushed through the grand
double doors, shaking rain from his cashmere coat.
“Dominic! What happened? Is the shipment compromised?” Lorenzo asked, breathing
heavily.
Dominic was sitting in the high-backed leather armchair behind his desk, the
stuffed rabbit resting squarely in front of him. Beside it lay the digital
recorder.
Lorenzo stopped in his tracks, his gaze flickering toward the rabbit. A
micro-expression of panic crossed his face before he masked it with a confused
smile. “What’s this? Sophie’s toy?”
Dominic pressed the play button. Clara’s voice echoed through the high-vaulted
study once more.
As Clara named Lorenzo and Sal Moretti, Lorenzo's face drained of all color. He
stepped backward toward the heavy oak door, his hand instinctively reaching
under his coat for a weapon.
Click.
Marco stepped from the shadows behind Lorenzo, pressing the cold steel barrel of
a Glock against the base of Lorenzo's skull.
“Don’t move,” Marco said calmly.
Lorenzo began to shake. “Dominic... listen to me. It’s a lie! The maid is
setting me up! Why would you believe a nameless girl over your own blood?”
Dominic rose slowly. He walked around the desk until he stood inches from his
cousin.
“Clara made me soup with less salt when my head hurt,” Dominic whispered, his
voice like grinding stones. “You took fifty million dollars and invited my
enemies to kill me in my sleep. You are my blood, Lorenzo. But she gave her life
to protect mine.”
“Dominic, please—”
“Where did Moretti’s men intercept her?” Dominic demanded, seizing Lorenzo by
May you like
the throat with a grip of iron. “Tell me where she is, or you will not live to
see sunrise.”
