Chapter 6 - The Betrayal WithinThe phone felt heavy in Enzo’s hand, like a brick of solid lead.
Rosa.
The woman who had called him that morning, her voice pitched in that particular way she got when she'd made a decision. She's smart enough to keep up with you. Beautiful enough to make you forget the world exists. And strong enough for the last name she's about to take on.
It wasn't a matchmaker's pitch. It was a setup delivery note.
Enzo walked out of the cellar and headed straight up the private elevator that led to his penthouse office above the importing company. The city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, indifferent to the blood and betrayal pulsing through the dark streets below.
He poured himself a glass of neat bourbon, tossing it back in a single burn.
How had he missed it? Rosa had been pushing him to settle down for years, complaining that the family was losing its edge, that Enzo was getting soft because he spent too much time negotiating legitimate trade routes instead of breaking heads. She wanted a war. She wanted the old Marchetti syndicate back—ruthless, isolated, and untouchable. And she had used an innocent schoolteacher and a little girl as pawns to force his hand.
The elevator bell chimed softly.
The heavy oak doors parted, and Rosa stepped out. She was wearing a tailored emerald green pantsuit, her silver-streaked hair pulled back into a flawless chignon. She looked like royalty, cool and composed.
"Enzo," Rosa smiled, walking toward his desk. "I heard about Pier 44. Word travels fast. You really are losing your touch, brother—taking down Yuri took you nearly three hours. Back in our father's day, it would have taken thirty minutes."
Enzo didn't move. He stood behind his mahogany desk, his glass resting on the polished wood, staring at her with eyes as cold as a frozen tomb.
Rosa stopped a few feet away, her smile faltering slightly as she noticed the absolute absence of warmth in his gaze.
"What is it?" Rosa asked, her voice sharpening. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Yuri didn't fund the hit," Enzo said, his voice flat, devoid of all emotion.
Rosa’s expression didn't even flicker. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Oh? And who did? One of his captains trying to frame him?"
"No," Enzo said, walking slowly around the edge of the desk until he was standing right in front of her. "A broker in Chicago. Funded through an offshore shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands under a dummy name."
Rosa held his gaze, her chin lifting defiantly. "And what does that have to do with me?"
"The shell corporation was opened using our grandfather’s old birth registry number," Enzo said softly. "The same registry only you and I have access to, Rosa. The same one you used to set up our mother's memorial fund."
The silence in the penthouse was absolute. Outside, the rain tapped a steady, relentless rhythm against the glass.
Rosa let out a slow, cold breath. The mask of the loving sister slipped away, replaced by the hardened, ruthless features of a true Marchetti.
"You're investigating your own blood over a random schoolteacher?" Rosa hissed, her voice rising in pitch. "Are you listening to yourself, Enzo? I built this family with our father! I kept the sharks away while you were playing diplomat! That woman—that nobody—was going to make you weak! She was going to domesticate the beast!"
"She was an innocent civilian, Rosa," Enzo said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "And her daughter is seven years old."
"Collateral damage!" Rosa shouted, stepping closer to him, her eyes flashing with fury. "This city doesn't run on kindness, Enzo! It runs on fear! The moment the other syndicates think you're looking for domestic bliss, they'll put a bullet in your head—and mine!"
Enzo looked down at his older sister—the woman who had protected him when they were children, who had taught him how to hold a gun before he could shave. The betrayal cut deeper than any knife Yuri could have ever thrown.
"You put a target on a child's back," Enzo said, his voice like grinding stones. "You used my name to terrorize a little girl."
"I saved this family," Rosa spat, turning on her heel toward the elevator. "And you'll thank me for it when—"
"Paulie," Enzo called out softly.
From the shadows near the elevator, Paulie stepped out, blocking the doors. He didn't look at Rosa; his eyes were fixed on the floor, heavy with the weight of what he had to do.
Rosa spun back around, her face twisting in disbelief. "You're arresting me? In my own house? I am a Marchetti!"
"You're a liability," Enzo said, turning his back to her, unable to look at her face any longer. "Take her to the safehouse in upstate New York. Lock her in the east wing. She stays there for the rest of her natural life. No phone calls. No visitors. No exception."
"You'll regret this, Enzo!" Rosa screamed as Paulie gently but firmly grabbed her arms, hauling her toward the service stairs. "The syndicate will tear you apart from the inside out! You're nothing without me!"
May you like
The heavy steel door clicked shut.
Enzo stood alone in the penthouse, the city lights blurring before his eyes. For the first time in thirty-seven years, the ledger felt entirely empty—and completely meaningless.
