Chapter 8 - THE HOUSE OF SANTORO
Salvatore Santoro lived in a stone mansion overlooking Long Island Sound.
By the time we arrived, three ambulances were outside.
Niko was out of the SUV before it stopped moving.
I followed.
Nobody tried to stop me.
Inside, the house was chaos.
Men shouted into phones.
A woman cried near the staircase.
I recognized Niko’s younger sister, Gia, from the wedding.
She ran toward him.
“Niko!”
He caught her.
“What happened?”
“Grandpa collapsed during breakfast.”
“Domenic?”
“He was here.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
Niko looked at Marco.
“Find him.”
Gia noticed me.
For one second, I expected hostility.
Instead, she threw her arms around me.
I froze.
“Thank God you’re okay,” she whispered.
I slowly hugged her back.
Niko looked surprised too.
Gia released me.
“Grandpa’s in the library. Paramedics are with him.”
We entered.
Salvatore Santoro lay on a sofa.
He was eighty-two but looked older.
His skin was gray.
A paramedic adjusted oxygen.
“Suspected poisoning,” someone said.
Niko became terrifyingly still.
“What poison?”
“Unknown.”
I looked toward the breakfast table.
Coffee.
Toast.
Eggs.
Half a glass of orange juice.
Then something caught my attention.
A tiny crystal near the rim of the glass.
“Niko.”
He looked.
I pointed.
“Don’t touch it.”
The paramedic collected the glass.
Niko crouched beside his grandfather.
Salvatore opened his eyes.
“Nicoletto.”
“I’m here.”
The old man managed a faint smile.
Then he saw me.
“Catherine.”
“No,” I said softly. “Sloane.”
His eyes cleared.
“Yes.”
He reached for my hand.
I hesitated.
Then gave it.
“I’m sorry.”
The words stunned me.
“For what?”
His breathing became rough.
“For the wedding.”
Niko looked at him.
“You arranged it.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to both of us.”
Salvatore closed his eyes briefly.
“I needed you together.”
“Why?”
“Because Domenic would never attack one family if it meant war with the other.”
“He attacked anyway.”
“Yes.”
Salvatore coughed.
Niko leaned closer.
“Did Domenic kill Lucia?”
The old man’s face broke.
“My son helped him.”
Niko stopped.
“Dad?”
Salvatore nodded.
The room became silent.
“My father killed my mother?”
“No.”
Salvatore struggled to breathe.
“Your father discovered Lucia’s betrayal.”
Niko recoiled.
“She was exposing criminals.”
“In his mind, she betrayed the family.”
“What did he do?”
“He confronted her.”
Salvatore swallowed.
“Domenic used their anger.”
Niko’s voice became low.
“What happened?”
“He told your father Luca only wanted the documents.”
“Dad gave Vescari her location.”
Niko’s face emptied.
“Yes.”
I watched something inside my husband break.
Salvatore gripped his wrist.
“Your father did not know they would kill her.”
“He still sold her.”
Salvatore closed his eyes.
“He never forgave himself.”
Niko stepped away.
His father had died five years earlier from cancer.
No confrontation.
No explanation.
Only another ghost.
I looked at Salvatore.
“What about my mother?”
The old man opened his eyes.
“Catherine found Lucia after she was attacked.”
My throat tightened.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Minutes.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“Lucia told her everything.”
“And Domenic?”
“Catherine tried to run.”
My hand tightened around his.
“Did my father know?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“Too late.”
His breathing became shallow.
“Domenic arranged the car.”
There it was.
Sixteen years.
One sentence.
The truth.
Domenic Santoro killed my mother.
And his own sister-in-law.
“For what?” I whispered.
Salvatore looked at me.
“Control.”
Niko turned toward the windows.
His back was rigid.
“Domenic wanted the family?”
“Yes.”
“He still does?”
“Yes.”
“Then why work with Vescari?”
“Because Luca promised him legitimacy.”
Salvatore laughed weakly.
“Men who spend their lives hiding in shadows become obsessed with daylight.”
Suddenly Gia screamed from the hallway.
Niko turned.
Gunfire erupted downstairs.
Marco shouted, “MOVE!”
The library door burst open.
Two security guards entered.
“East entrance breached!”
Niko grabbed me.
“Safe room.”
“No.”
“Sloane.”
“Gia!”
“I’ll get her.”
Another shot.
Glass shattered.
Niko pushed me behind the desk.
“Stay here!”
He ran into the hall.
I crouched beside Salvatore.
The paramedics had retreated behind the sofa.
Then the library window exploded.
A masked man climbed through.
He saw me.
Raised a gun.
Salvatore moved.
The eighty-two-year-old man who had barely been able to breathe threw himself between us.
The gun fired.
Salvatore jerked.
“No!”
I caught him as he fell.
Blood spread across his shirt.
The attacker raised the weapon again.
Then another shot cracked.
He collapsed.
Niko stood in the doorway.
Gun raised.
His face changed when he saw his grandfather.
“Grandpa.”
He dropped beside us.
Salvatore’s breathing was wet.
“No,” Niko whispered. “No, no.”
The old man lifted one bloody hand.
Niko took it.
“Don’t become them.”
“What?”
Salvatore’s eyes found him.
“Domenic. Luca. Your father.”
His voice faded.
“Do not confuse vengeance with justice.”
Niko’s face broke.
Salvatore looked at me.
“Help him.”
I couldn’t speak.
Then Salvatore whispered, “Choose each other.”
His hand fell.
The paramedic checked him.
Nothing.
Niko stared at his grandfather’s face.
Outside, gunfire continued.
But in that room, everything became silent.
Then Niko stood.
The grief disappeared behind something frightening.
Rage.
He checked his weapon.
“I’m going to kill Domenic.”
I stood too.
“No.”
He turned.
“Move.”
“Your grandfather’s last words—”
“Were spoken by a dying man.”
“He told you not to do this.”
“He murdered my mother.”
“He murdered mine too!”
Niko froze.
I stepped between him and the door.
“You think I don’t want him dead?”
His jaw clenched.
“I want him to look at me and know Catherine Shaw’s daughter survived everything he did.”
I moved closer.
“But if you execute him, Vescari wins.”
“How?”
“He proves you’re exactly what everyone says.”
Niko looked toward Salvatore.
I lowered my voice.
“We expose them.”
“That takes time.”
“Then we take time.”
“They’ll keep coming.”
“Then we fight smarter.”
Something in his face shifted.
Slowly, he lowered the gun.
Marco appeared.
“House is secured.”
“Domenic?”
“Gone.”
Niko looked at me.
“Then find him.”
Marco nodded.
Gia entered.
She saw Salvatore.
A sound left her that I will never forget.
Niko caught his sister as she collapsed.
I stood beside them.
The feared Santoro family.
Not feared now.
Just grieving.
Hours later, after police and federal agents arrived, I sat alone in the mansion’s chapel.
Niko found me there.
He sat beside me.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Then he said, “You saved his murderer’s life today.”
I looked at him.
“No. I saved yours.”
His eyes met mine.
“If you killed Domenic in anger, some part of him would stay with you forever.”
Niko looked toward the altar.
“I’ve done worse things than you know.”
I believed him.
“That doesn’t mean you have to do the next one.”
He laughed softly.
“You really are studying to be a lawyer.”
“I’m billing you later.”
That earned a real smile.
Then his hand moved across the bench.
Stopped beside mine.
“May I?”
I threaded my fingers through his.
“Yes.”
He held my hand.
Nothing more.
And for the first time since Thursday morning, I understood something terrifying.
I wasn’t staying because my father forced me.
I wasn’t staying because the Santoro name protected me.
I was staying because the man beside me had become someone I did not want to leave.
Marco entered the chapel.
His face was grim.
“We found Domenic.”
Niko stood.
“Where?”
Marco handed him a photograph.
Domenic stood outside a private airfield.
Beside him was Luca Vescari.
And between them—
My father.
Arthur’s hands were bound.
A newspaper had been placed against his chest to prove the photograph was current.
Across it, someone had written in black marker:
BRING THE REAL LEDGER.
May you like
MIDNIGHT.
ONE FINAL TRADE.
