Chapter 4 - The Unsealed Ledger of the Sub-BasementInside the soundproofed, mahogany-lined library of the main mansion, Don Marco Santoro sat behind an antique desk, reviewing the winter shipping manifests with eight of his most trusted capos and harbor captains.
Standing at his right elbow was Mr. Henderson, holding a leather folio of household expenses with an oily, practiced smile.
“Everything regarding your father’s medical care has been handled to the highest standard, Don Marco,” Henderson said smoothly. “Dr. Mercer visits every Tuesday. His vitals are stable, and he rests in complete comfort in the private carriage suite.”
Marco did not look up from the manifest.
“And the heating costs?”
“Fully allocated, sir,” Henderson replied without blinking. “We keep the rooms at a steady seventy-two degrees.”
Before Marco could sign the quarterly release, a deafening, concussive chime detonated inside the room.
CLANG.
The four-hundred-pound naval bronze bell mounted inside the brick fireplace lintel swung violently on its iron pivots.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
The sound was an iron thunderclap, vibrating through the mahogany paneling and sending crystal tumblers rattling against the bar.
Every single mob boss in the room dropped his papers, their hands diving beneath their coats, their weapons instantly clearing their holsters.
Marco’s pen snapped in two between his fingers.
He rose from his chair so violently that the heavy mahogany desk slid forward two inches.
“Who touched the carriage wire?” Marco roared, his voice cold enough to freeze blood.
Henderson went ashen, his knees trembling violently. “Don Marco... it must be a short circuit! The blizzard—the high winds must have collapsed a branch onto the service lines—”
“That line doesn't run overhead, Henderson,” Frank, Marco’s security chief, snarled, leveling a tactical shotgun at Henderson’s face. “That wire is buried six feet beneath reinforced concrete. It connects to one room on this property.”
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Marco didn't speak another word.
He cleared the desk in a single, explosive leap, tore through the double doors, and sprinted down the grand corridor toward the carriage house, his armed commandos and eight mob bosses thundering behind him through the storm.
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