Chapter 6 - Midnight at the Long Island FortressThe private chapel atop the bluffs was a masterpiece of hand-carved limestone and century-old stained glass, overlooking the roaring waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
Inside, sixty leaders of the Eastern Seaboard syndicates—capos from Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Boston, and New Jersey—sat along the polished mahogany pews, dressed in bespoke tuxedos.
At the front of the altar stood Dante Caruso, wearing his tailored black tuxedo.
Around his neck hung the heavy platinum chain bearing the twenty-carat teardrop emerald pendant—the flawless replica from Zurich.
Standing to his left as best man was Daniel, his hand resting unobtrusively inside his coat.
And sitting in the front row, wearing an elegant navy silk dress that draped gracefully over my cast, was me.
The church organ swelled into the grand bridal march.
The double wrought-iron doors swung open.
Vanessa Bellini walked down the aisle on the arm of her father, Don Salvatore Bellini.
Vanessa was breathtaking in a custom Vera Wang gown of ivory Chantilly lace and cascading silk tulle, her face radiant with rehearsed perfection. Her father, a heavy-set man of sixty-two with slicked-back silver hair and cold, calculating blue eyes, smiled proudly at the assembly.
They believed their plan was flawless.
They believed Andrew Keller had swapped the real emeralds into their extraction vehicle, that their tactical cigarette boat was waiting beneath the cliffs, and that thirty minutes from now, Dante would be mourning a stolen necklace while their sixty-million-dollar debt to Montreal was settled.
When Vanessa reached the altar, she looked at Dante, offering a demure, triumphant smile.
Then her eyes drifted down to the front pew.
She saw me.
She saw the navy silk gown, the clean white fiberglass cast resting on a velvet cushion, and the quiet, fearless dignity in my eyes.
Vanessa’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. A sharp flicker of unease crossed her features before she masked it with bridal poise.
The archbishop of New York stepped forward, raising his hands in blessing over the couple.
“We are gathered here today before God and this assembly to unite the houses of Caruso and Bellini in sacred bond—”
“Stop the liturgy,” Dante’s voice cut through the cathedral like a gunshot.
The archbishop froze, his hands suspended mid-air.
The church organ died in a discordant groan.
The sixty syndicate bosses leaned forward, their hands instinctively moving beneath their lapels.
Salvatore Bellini’s smile vanished, his thick jaw tightening. “Dante? What is the meaning of this interruption?”
Dante didn’t look at Salvatore.
He turned slowly toward his bride.
With unhurried, deliberate movements, Dante reached up to his neck, unhooked the platinum chain, and held the twenty-carat emerald pendant in the palm of his hand.
May you like
He looked at Vanessa.
“How much did you promise Andrew Keller for this stone, Vanessa?” Dante asked, his voice smooth, quiet, and terrifyingly clear.
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