Chapter 2 - The Cashier Who Could Read His Books
Enzo Marquetti was trying to destroy his father's legacy.
Not the restaurants.
Not the construction company.
Not the textile mill.
The fear.
His father, Tomas, had spent fifteen years teaching Federal Hill to lower its eyes when a Marquetti passed.
Enzo wanted that to end.
At a family meeting Monday afternoon, he made his position clear.
“By the end of this quarter, the last two illegitimate operations close.”
Silence.
Rocco Santelli leaned back.
He had known Enzo since childhood.
“Your father wouldn't approve.”
“My father is dead.”
“His enemies aren't.”
“Neither are his mistakes.”
Rocco's jaw tightened.
“You're hiring an outsider to audit us?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“A woman named Sadie Whitlock.”
“Credentials?”
“Enough.”
“Family?”
“None that concerns you.”
Rocco leaned forward.
“Those books don't only hold money, Enzo. They hold names.”
“I know.”
“Once a name walks out that door, you can't call it back.”
Enzo stood.
“Then maybe we should stop keeping names we're ashamed to explain.”
Wednesday morning, Sadie entered Marquetti Holdings.
Her coat was old.
Her shoes were inexpensive.
She noticed people noticing both.
A beautiful woman approached her in reception.
“Sadie?”
“Yes.”
“Camille Ashford.”
Sadie recognized the name.
Enzo's fiancée.
Camille looked her over.
“Where did he find you?”
“A grocery store.”
Camille laughed.
“That's so like him. He's always picking something up and bringing it home.”
Sadie said nothing.
But she remembered.
Rocco appeared minutes later.
“Narragansett Community Bank?” he asked after learning her work history.
“Broad Street branch.”
Something flashed across his face.
“That branch closed years ago.”
“It did.”
“Shame. I used to stop in there myself.”
Enzo arrived.
Rocco immediately smiled.
“If the boss chose her, I trust his judgment.”
Upstairs, Enzo gave Sadie an office.
“You'll reconcile all three divisions.”
“Restaurants, construction, textiles.”
“Correct.”
“I can question anyone?”
“Anyone.”
“You?”
“Especially me.”
Sadie raised an eyebrow.
Enzo leaned against her desk.
“I don't need you to make me happy. I need you to make me uncomfortable.”
“What if I find something you don't want to hear?”
“Tell me anyway.”
Sadie opened the first ledger.
“Then leave me alone.”
Enzo smiled.
“Yes, ma'am.”
For four days, Sadie barely spoke to anyone.
On the fifth, she knocked on Enzo's door.
“I found something.”
He closed the document in front of him.
“How uncomfortable?”
“Seven hundred eighty-six thousand dollars.”
Enzo's expression changed.
“Come in.”
Sadie spread invoices across his desk.
“Your textile division bought industrial cleaning supplies from Bayline Distribution.”
“So?”
“Bayline doesn't exist.”
Enzo studied the invoices.
“You're sure?”
“The address belongs to an abandoned garage.”
“Could be an old supplier.”
“Then they have excellent customer service for dead people. They billed you last month.”
Enzo looked up.
“Who approved these?”
Sadie hesitated.
“Rocco.”
Silence.
Enzo's jaw tightened.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
She placed another page down.
“Payments started eleven years ago.”
“That predates me taking control.”
“Yes.”
“It was my father's account.”
“Yes.”
Enzo leaned back.
“Why does that bother you?”
“Because I recognize the routing pattern.”
“From where?”
Sadie didn't answer immediately.
“Narragansett Community Bank.”
Enzo sat forward.
“The bank where you worked?”
“Yes.”
“The one that closed?”
Sadie's face had gone pale.
May you like
“The one that destroyed my life.”
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