Chapter 5 - Dawn on the Cliff
By 6:00 A.M., the storm had blown out to sea, leaving behind a cold, brilliant New England sunrise that painted the Atlantic in shades of slate and gold.
In the master suite on the second floor, Stefano Marchetti opened his eyes.
The pain in his side was a dull, burning anchor, but his mind was sharp. He stared up at the plastered ceiling for several long moments before turning his head slowly toward the armchair beside the bed.
Alice Brennan sat there, her head resting against the high back of the chair, fast asleep in her blue scrubs, clutching the scorched leather notepad in her lap. Curled protectively across her feet like a heavy, living rug was Nero, fast asleep.
The door clicked open softly.
Danny Falcone stepped into the room, followed by two armed guards dragging a disheveled, zip-tied Leonard Voss between them.
Stefano shifted, wincing as a sharp spike of pain shot through his ribs, but he forced himself upward against the pillows. His voice, when he spoke, was a low, gravelly rasp that sounded like grinding stones.
"What is he doing in my room?" Stefano asked, his dark eyes fixed on Voss with terrifying intensity.
"We found him trying to slip out through the service basement with a hard drive containing the offshore transfer logs," Danny reported quietly, his face carved from granite. "He had a forged medical report ready for the coroner."
Voss looked up, pale and trembling. "Stefano—listen to me. You're making a mistake. The girl, she doesn't know what she's—"
Stefano didn't raise his voice. He didn't yell. He simply looked at Danny.
"Take him to the dry docks," Stefano said softly. "Let the tide take care of the paperwork."
As the guards dragged a screaming Voss out of the room, the heavy oak door clicked shut, plunging the suite back into a profound, heavy silence.
Alice stirred. She blinked against the bright morning light flooding through the sheer curtains, sitting up straight with a start. Her eyes darted toward the bed.
Stefano was watching her.
Up close, without the shadows of the ruined hall or the panic of the trauma room, Stefano Marchetti looked less like a mythical underworld boss and more like a man who had survived a war only to find nothing left on the other side.
"You saved my life," Stefano said, his voice steadying. "And you uncovered a betrayal that would have torn my entire world down before I woke up."
"I just did my job," Alice said, rubbing her tired eyes and standing up stiffly from the chair. "Though your dog did most of the heavy lifting."
May you like
Stefano looked down at Nero, who had raised his massive head at the sound of his master's voice, letting out a soft, contented grunt before resting his chin back on Alice's shoe.
"Nero doesn't trust easily," Stefano said quietly. "In my line of work, neither do I. But he chose you. And in this house, that carries more weight than any contract ever written."
