Chapter 6 - Victor Costa's Last Bargain
Pier 12 smelled of rust and river water.
Dominic walked beside me.
Enzo remained outside with his men.
I carried the bag containing the ledgers.
Dominic carried nothing visible.
Victor Costa waited inside.
Isabella sat in a chair nearby, frightened but unharmed.
“Claire Bennett,” Costa said.
“You caused a lot of trouble for a waitress.”
“You were never just a waitress.”
I held up the bag.
“Let Isabella go.”
Costa smiled.
“First the records.”
“No.”
Dominic looked sideways at me.
Costa laughed.
“She gives you orders now?”
“Frequently.”
“Marriage softened you.”
Dominic's expression remained cold.
“No. She reminded me there are things worth protecting.”
Costa's smile faded.
I opened the bag.
“Here are the ledgers.”
“Bring them.”
“Release Isabella.”
Costa motioned.
A man cut Isabella's restraints.
She hurried toward us.
Dominic pulled his mother behind him.
Costa extended his hand.
“The bag.”
I gave it to him.
He opened it.
Empty folders.
Costa looked up.
“You stupid girl.”
“No.”
I held up my phone.
“You were stupid.”
His face changed.
Dominic smiled faintly.
“The actual records went to federal investigators forty minutes ago.”
Costa stared at him.
“You'd destroy your own organization?”
“My father's organization.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Not mine.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Costa's men looked toward the doors.
“You betrayed your blood.”
Dominic's voice turned quiet.
“My blood betrayed innocent people first.”
Costa backed away.
Police lights flashed through broken windows.
Enzo entered with Isabella.
“Time to leave.”
Costa shouted after us.
“This isn't over!”
I turned.
“For my father, it finally is.”
---
Outside, Dominic stopped beside the SUV.
“You sent the evidence?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“Even the Rossi files?”
“Yes.”
I studied him.
“You could lose everything.”
“Not everything.”
His eyes moved to me.
My heart stumbled.
I looked at the ring.
“Dominic.”
“You don't owe me anything.”
His voice was calm.
“When this is finished, I'll sign whatever annulment papers you want.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“No argument?”
“No.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”
He smiled.
A real smile this time.
Then his expression softened.
“I married you because I was afraid Costa would kill you.”
“I know.”
“But somewhere between you insulting me in the hospital and ordering me around at gunpoint—”
“There was no gun.”
“Figuratively.”
“Continue.”
He stepped closer.
“I stopped wanting the marriage to be fake.”
Neither of us spoke.
Then I said:
“You still married me unconscious.”
“Yes.”
“That's going to take work.”
“I have time.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“More work.”
“I have money.”
I laughed despite myself.
“Money doesn't fix everything.”
His expression turned serious.
“I know.”
May you like
For Dominic Rossi, those two words mattered.
---
