Chapter 4 - The Ghost of March 1996Before I could process the revelation, the front window of the bakery shattered with an explosive crash.
"Down!" I shouted, grabbing Mia by the waist and pulling her behind the massive steel flour bin just as a hail of glass shards rained across the checkered tile floor.
Heavy boots slammed through the front door. Flashlight beams cut through the flour dust dancing in the air.
"Clear the perimeter!" a gruff voice barked—a voice I recognized instantly.
Vince Russo. Gino’s chief executioner.
"Rocco!" Vince called out into the dark bakery, his voice echoing mockingly off the industrial ovens. "I know you're in here, kid! You thought you could run off to the sticks and play hermit? Your uncle wants a word. And bring the girl! Boss wants to tie up all loose ends from thirty years ago!"
Mia clutched my sleeve, her eyes wide with terror. "Who are they? What do they want with me?"
"They want the ledger," I said, my voice dropping into an icy, dead calm—the exact tone I used in Boston right before I ruined a man's life. "And they want to erase everyone who knows why I was born."
I checked my coat. No piece-metal. No firearm. I had traveled light, believing my old life was behind me.
Big mistake.
Vince’s footsteps crunched closer to the flour bins. The beam of his flashlight swept across the floor just feet from where we crouched.
"I smell yeast and cowardice," Vince laughed, cocking the slide of a suppressed Glock. "Come out, Rocco, or I start shooting through the steel."
I looked down at Mia. Her hands were shaking, but she reached into her pocket and pulled out a heavy brass key, pressing it into my palm.
"The cellar," she whispered, pointing toward a heavy wooden floor hatch hidden beneath a flour sack. "It leads to the old mining tunnels under the mountain. My father said they go all the way to the interstate."
I looked at the key, then into her eyes. The old Rocco Castellano would have used her as a shield to buy his own escape.
May you like
The new Rocco Castellano drew a breath, adjusted his grip on the brass key, and smiled a cold, terrifying smile.
"Stay behind me," I said.
