Chapter 10 - The Ghost from Twenty Years Ago
Richard pulled a hunting knife from his boot.
With two swift strokes, he severed the thick ropes binding Teresa to the chair.
He ripped the IV needle from her vein.
"Ma," he whispered.
His voice broke.
The feared crime boss sank to his knees, pressing his forehead against his
mother’s frail, trembling hands.
"Ma, I'm here. Richie is here."
Teresa opened her cloudy eyes.
Her pale fingers traced the deep gash on his forehead.
"My Richie," she breathed, her voice paper-thin.
"I told them... you would come."
She looked past his shoulder.
Her gaze found me, kneeling in the dirt, covered in soot, rain, and blood.
"Naomi," the old woman whispered.
"She kept the water away... she saved me..."
Richard turned to me.
His eyes were wet with unshed tears.
"Thank you," he said.
Two words that carried the weight of an entire empire.
Behind us, Celeste was crawling toward the exit doors.
Her designer coat was soaked in filthy bilge water.
Her nose was crooked and dripping crimson onto the concrete.
Her diamond engagement ring had slipped off her finger, lost somewhere in the
grime.
"Richard..." she whimpered, turning onto her side, looking at him with
desperate, ruined eyes.
"You don't understand... Salvatore forced me... he had debts on my father..."
Richard stood up.
The tenderness in his eyes vanished.
He walked over to where she lay.
He looked down at her like she was a stain on the sidewalk.
"Your father didn't have debts, Celeste," Richard said coldly.
"Your father was Vincent Moretti. Salvatore’s younger brother. The one my family
drove out of Manhattan twenty years ago."
Celeste froze.
The lies died in her throat.
"You thought you were clever," Richard continued, his voice echoing in the
rafters.
"You thought changing your name and attending charity galas would make me blind.
I knew who you were the day you applied to sit on my hospital board."
Celeste stared up at him in horror.
"You... you knew?"
"I wanted to see how far the Morettis would reach," Richard said softly.
"I thought you had some honor left. I thought you would target my businesses. My
ships. My bank accounts."
He leaned down, his eyes boring into her soul.
"But you touched my mother."
He stepped over her outstretched hand.
"And you targeted an innocent child."
Sirens began wailing in the distance.
Dozens of them.
Not the local police.
Black unmarked SUVs with flashing federal and state tactical lights turned onto
the pier.
Celeste looked toward the flashing blue lights with sudden hope.
"The feds! I'll talk! I'll take a deal! I'll tell them everything about your
shipping lines!"
Richard didn't even look back.
"Go ahead, Celeste. Tell them."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small digital recorder.
"Because every word you spoke tonight was transmitted directly to the United
States Attorney’s Office. You're not going to state prison. You're going to ADX
Florence for domestic terrorism and attempted murder."
The warehouse doors were kicked open.
Dozens of federal agents in tactical gear poured inside, weapons raised.
The lead agent looked at Richard, then at the destruction.
"Don Castellano?" the agent asked.
May you like
"The conspirators are contained, Agent Vance," Richard said smoothly.
"Take the woman. And get an ambulance for my mother."
