Chapter 3 - The Cold Steel of the Mount Sinai LedgerThe realization hit my chest like a broadside wave.
Sofia’s younger sister. The one who had vanished from the family registry eight years ago after refusing an arranged marriage to a corrupt state commissioner.
“Your mother washed linens in my basement for five years?” I asked, my voice cracking with an emotion that hadn't surfaced since the blast.
“She said it was the only place Silvio’s men wouldn't look for her,” Toby said simply. “She said the safest place to hide from a wolf is inside his own den, right under the floorboards where he drops his crumbs.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a folded piece of yellowed lined paper, handing it up to me.
I unfolded the paper with trembling fingers.
It was written in Sofia’s unmistakable, flowing violet ink, dated October 14, 2021—three hours before our car entered the Atlantic City Expressway:
“Dante, my heart. If you are reading this, Silvio’s bomb has done its work, but Elena has preserved my voice. Toby carries the blood of two families who were meant to rule this coast together. Do not let Silvio crown himself on your broken bones. Take the city back. Not with bullets, but with the ledgers. The boardwalk belongs to the people who walk it, not the vultures who bleed it.”
A single, scalding tear rolled down my cheek, dropping onto the faded violet ink.
I looked at Frank Russo, who stood waiting by the archway with his shotgun resting in the crook of his arm.
“Frank.”
“Command, Don Dante.”
“Bring Dr. Mercer from Mount Sinai to my private medical pavilion in an unmarked van before midnight. If he hesitates, tell him the Boardwalk Emperor is standing on his own two feet and holds the receipt for twelve million dollars.”
Frank smiled—a grim, feral flash of teeth that lit up his weathered face.
“The van is already moving, boss.”
“And Frank?”
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“Sir?”
“Tell the kitchen to prepare the master suite in the east wing. Bring Elena Corelli up from the laundry quarters under an honor escort of thirty men. No Corelli will ever wash a sheet in this city again.”
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