Chapter 5 - The Shadow of the CommissionMorning came to Shore Road in shades of slate grey and icy pearl.
By eight o'clock, the storm had passed, leaving the high windows of the estate covered in delicate patterns of white frost. Downstairs, the house was already humming with quiet, ruthless activity.
I sat at a long mahogany table in the breakfast room, wearing a soft grey cashmere sweater and trousers that the maid had brought me. Ethan sat beside me, his small face glowing with health, eating his fourth pancake drenched in maple syrup while two security guards in dark suits stood discreetly by the french doors leading to the terrace.
The heavy double doors of the dining room swung open.
Dante walked in. He was accompanied by an older man with white hair, silver-rimmed spectacles, and a leather briefcase under his arm—Mr. Moretti’s chief legal advisor, Leo Vance.
"Morning," Dante said, stopping at the head of the table. He reached down and ran his hand through Ethan’s messy hair. "How are the pancakes, kid?"
"They're the best pancakes in the world," Ethan declared with his mouth full. "They have little chocolate chips inside!"
Dante permitted himself a tiny smile before turning his eyes to me. The warmth vanished instantly, replaced by his usual businesslike mask.
"Haley," Dante said. "We have a problem."
I set my teacup down, my hands suddenly going cold again. "What happened? Did the police—"
"The police aren't the problem," Leo Vance interrupted, stepping forward and opening his briefcase on the polished wood. He pulled out three high-resolution photographs and laid them in front of me. "The problem is the Commission."
I looked at the photographs.
They were taken from a long-range camera outside The Copper Line last night. They showed Paulie dragging me over the bar, Victor holding the gun, and—most terrifyingly—a third man standing near the black sedan parked across the street, watching the entire scene through a pair of binoculars.
"Who is that?" I asked, pointing to the third man.
"That is Carmine Lucchese," Dante said, sitting down in the high-backed chair at the head of the table. "He is the Underboss of the Lucchese family—the dominant faction on the Five Families Commission."
"Why was he watching us?"
"Because Paulie didn't act alone," Dante explained, his tone flat and icy. "Paulie was being paid by Lucchese to find the Sato ledger. Lucchese believes that three hundred million dollars in offshore money is hidden in an account linked to the plum blossom symbol."
He leaned back, intertwining his fingers.
"Last night, I killed Paulie," Dante said simply. "By noon today, Lucchese will know Paulie is dead and that you are in my house. He has called an emergency meeting of the Commission at the Grand Hotel in Manhattan for two o'clock this afternoon."
My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. "What does that mean for us?"
"It means," Leo Vance said, "that Lucchese will demand Mr. Moretti surrender you to the Commission for interrogation. He will argue that under the 1998 Accord, any asset related to foreign syndicate accounts belongs to all five families equally."
"Surrender me?" I gasped, looking at Dante. "They want to take me back to a room like Pier 42?"
"Over my dead body," Dante said quietly.
"Dante," Leo warned, his voice tight with anxiety. "If you refuse a direct order from the Commission, it means war. All four other families will align with Lucchese against us. We will lose our docks, our trucking licenses, and half our territory in Queens within forty-eight hours."
Dante didn't look at Leo. He kept his dark eyes fixed on me.
"Are you afraid, Haley?" he asked softly.
I looked at Ethan, who had stopped chewing his pancake and was looking back and forth between us with wide, worried eyes. I remembered the blood on the bar floor. I remembered the feeling of the plastic zip-ties cutting into my skin. I remembered the way Dante had picked Paulie up by the throat without hesitation.
"I’m terrified," I said honestly. "But I’m more afraid of going back to hiding in small rooms."
Dante stared at me for three long seconds. Then, a slow, dangerous smile curved the corner of his lips.
"Good," Dante said, standing up from the table. "Then put on a coat, Haley. You’re coming to Manhattan with me."
"What?" Leo gasped, his jaw dropping. "Dante, you can't bring a civilian to a Commission meeting! It’s against every rule of the charter!"
"The charter was written by old men who are now dead," Dante said, grabbing his heavy wool coat from the back of his chair. "Marco!"
Marco stepped into the room instantly. "Yes, Boss?"
"Prepare the armored convoy. Three cars. Tell the men to carry heavy iron."
"Understood, Boss."
May you like
Dante turned to me, offering his arm.
"Lucchese wants to talk about the Sato ledger," Dante said, his grey eyes flashing like cold steel in the morning light. "It’s time we showed him what happens when you try to audit my family."
