Chapter 4 - THE TRAITOR AT THE TABLESerafina did not accuse Michael Conti.
That would have been easy.
Easy was dangerous.
Instead, she invited every capo to dinner.
Carlo’s old dining room had hosted judges, union presidents, businessmen, politicians, and men whose names never appeared in newspapers despite controlling entire neighborhoods.
That evening, only nine seats were occupied.
Carlo sat at the head.
Serafina sat opposite him.
Salvatore Russo, Michael Conti, Angelo Rizzo, Dominic Caruso, Pietro Falcone, Frank Bellini, Thomas Greco, and Luca DeSantis filled the remaining chairs.
No bodyguards.
No phones.
No weapons.
Carlo had insisted on the last rule.
Michael smiled when he surrendered his pistol.
“Expecting trouble?”
Serafina looked at him.
“I’m expecting honesty.”
Dinner arrived.
Nobody ate much.
After ten minutes, Serafina placed Gabriel’s flash drive on the table.
“These are Gabriel’s files.”
Every face changed.
“He discovered Victor was using legitimate Moretti freight companies to assist organizations moving narcotics and trafficked people.”
Thomas Greco cursed under his breath.
Angelo slammed his palm against the table.
“We never touched that.”
“I know.”
“Then kill Victor.”
Serafina’s expression remained still.
“No.”
Several men looked at her.
Angelo frowned.
“He murdered your husband.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“You believe it.”
“What I believe doesn’t matter.”
Angelo actually laughed.
“You’re telling me if Victor killed Gabriel, you’re taking him to court?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Salvatore leaned back.
“That will be difficult for some men here.”
Serafina looked around.
“Then they can leave.”
Nobody moved.
She continued.
“Gabriel wanted this family out.”
“Out of what?” Frank asked.
“All of it.”
Michael’s eyes sharpened.
“What does all mean?”
“Protection money. Illegal gambling. loansharking. bribery. stolen goods. off-book collections.”
Michael gave a small laugh.
“So everything.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
Angelo looked toward Carlo.
“You support this?”
Carlo’s jaw tightened.
“I should have done it thirty years ago.”
Michael pushed his chair backward.
“Then the Moretti family dies.”
Serafina shook her head.
“No. It changes.”
“Into what? A corporation?”
“A family.”
Michael stared at her.
“You have no idea how this works.”
“I understand it perfectly.”
“No, you understand spreadsheets.”
There it was again.
Serafina almost smiled.
“My spreadsheets are why the FBI never indicted three men at this table five years ago when Victor moved taxable income through improperly documented subsidiaries.”
Three faces changed.
Serafina continued.
“My spreadsheets found two hundred sixty employees being underpaid overtime.”
Another man looked down.
“My spreadsheets discovered someone skimming from the Bronx construction division.”
Angelo stiffened.
“That was Frankie March.”
“Yes.”
“You found him?”
“Yes.”
Angelo had spent four years believing his own bookkeeper uncovered the fraud.
Serafina looked at Michael.
“And my spreadsheets discovered a transfer from one of your companies to Victor’s private account six hours after Gabriel died.”
The room froze.
Michael did not move.
Salvatore’s chair scraped backward.
Serafina raised one hand.
“Sit.”
Michael’s gaze stayed locked on hers.
“How much?”
“You know.”
“Humor me.”
“Three hundred thousand.”
Michael’s expression remained calm.
“A debt.”
“For what?”
“Personal business.”
“What business?”
“Personal.”
Serafina nodded.
“Interesting.”
She opened a folder.
“Because the memo line on the internal ledger says ‘balance for G.’”
Michael said nothing.
Angelo stood.
“Was G Gabriel?”
“Sit down,” Serafina said.
“Answer me.”
Michael looked at Angelo.
“I don’t answer to you.”
Angelo lunged.
Salvatore caught him.
“Sit!”
Carlo struck his cane against the floor.
The room went silent.
Serafina never looked away from Michael.
“Yesterday morning, someone warned me to stop looking for Paul Dugan.”
For the first time, Michael reacted.
A small tightening around the eyes.
There.
“You know him.”
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“I reacted because you said a name.”
“Then I’ll say another. Lancer Consulting.”
Nothing.
“Dugan Auto Works.”
Nothing.
“Lakeview Marina.”
Michael blinked.
Barely.
Enough.
Serafina leaned back.
“Thank you.”
Michael smiled without humor.
“You’re bluffing.”
“No.”
“What’s Lakeview Marina?”
“A place I invented twenty minutes ago.”
Several men looked at one another.
Michael’s expression went flat.
Serafina continued.
“You reacted because you expected another real connection.”
“Cute.”
“No. Useful.”
Michael stood.
“You finished?”
“Almost.”
Serafina slid a photograph across the table.
It showed Michael meeting Victor in a parking garage.
Timestamp: three weeks before Gabriel’s death.
Michael stared at it.
Then another photograph.
Victor.
Michael.
Paul Dugan.
Same garage.
Michael’s face finally changed.
Carlo whispered, “Jesus.”
Salvatore rose slowly.
“You knew Dugan.”
Michael looked at Serafina.
“Where did you get these?”
“Gabriel.”
That was a lie.
The photographs came from a private investigator Serafina hired months earlier.
But Michael did not need to know.
He laughed softly.
“Gabriel was always paranoid.”
“Was he?”
Michael looked around the table.
“You all think she’s saving you?”
Nobody answered.
“She’s handing you to prosecutors.”
Serafina nodded.
“Yes.”
That surprised everyone.
Michael stared.
“What?”
“The legitimate companies will undergo complete forensic review.”
“You’re insane.”
“Anyone who committed financial crimes through them may face consequences.”
Several capos shifted.
Serafina continued.
“But I have negotiated a cooperation framework with federal authorities.”
Salvatore frowned.
“When?”
“Before Gabriel died.”
Carlo looked sharply at her.
“Gabriel started it?”
“Yes.”
That part was true.
“He wanted a path out.”
Michael shook his head.
“Traitor.”
Serafina’s voice went cold.
“My husband died trying to make sure our children didn’t become you.”
Michael took one step toward her.
Seven chairs moved.
Every capo stood.
Again.
Behind Serafina.
Michael stopped.
The same thing Victor had seen on the lawn.
Only now Michael understood exactly what it meant.
He was alone.
Serafina rose.
“Three hundred thousand dollars.”
Michael’s jaw tightened.
“Tell me why.”
“Go to hell.”
“Was it payment for Gabriel?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Silence.
“Michael.”
Something broke in his face.
Not guilt.
Fear.
“They weren’t supposed to kill him.”
Nobody moved.
Serafina felt the room tilt.
She gripped the edge of the table beneath her hand.
“What did you just say?”
Michael realized his mistake.
Salvatore grabbed his jacket.
“What did you do?”
Michael shoved him away.
“I didn’t kill Gabriel!”
“Then explain.”
Michael looked at Serafina.
“It was supposed to scare him.”
“Who?”
“Victor wanted Gabriel out of the company.”
“How?”
“Dugan tampered with the SUV.”
Serafina couldn’t breathe.
“Tampered how?”
“Brake line.”
“But the car exploded.”
“I know.”
Michael looked genuinely disturbed now.
“That wasn’t the plan.”
“Who changed it?”
“I don’t know.”
Serafina stepped closer.
“Do not lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“You introduced Victor to Dugan.”
“Yes.”
“You helped arrange access to Gabriel’s vehicle.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re claiming Victor wanted an accident that Gabriel survived?”
“He wanted Gabriel hurt. Hospitalized. Scared enough to back away.”
Carlo’s face was gray.
“And the bomb?”
Michael shook his head.
“Victor called me after. He was panicking.”
Serafina remembered Victor arriving before police notification.
“Why did he reach the scene so quickly?”
“Because he was following Gabriel.”
“Why?”
“To make sure the brake failure happened.”
A terrible possibility formed.
“If Victor didn’t plant the explosive… who did?”
Michael swallowed.
“Ask Dugan.”
Serafina’s phone vibrated inside the box where all devices had been stored.
Then another buzz.
Then another.
She walked over.
Her screen showed twelve missed calls from the security detail protecting Mia and Leo.
She called immediately.
A man answered.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
“What happened?”
His breathing was heavy.
“We have a problem.”
Her blood went cold.
“Where are my children?”
“Safe.”
She closed her eyes.
“What happened?”
“Someone tried to take them.”
Every man in the dining room went silent.
Serafina’s voice dropped.
“Who?”
“We caught one of them.”
“And?”
The guard paused.
“He says Victor sent him.”
Michael shook his head urgently.
“No.”
Serafina looked at him.
Michael whispered, “Victor wouldn’t touch Gabriel’s kids.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I know what scares Victor.”
“What?”
Michael’s face had gone pale.
“Victor doesn’t want those children dead.”
May you like
He looked at Gabriel’s flash drive.
“He wants what Gabriel hid with them.”
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