Chapter 6 - The Confession RecordedI reached into my inner jacket pocket, pulled out a small digital recording device, and pressed stop.
"Clear audio. Crystal clear video from the hidden wall lenses," I said, tossing the device onto the desk in front of him. "Every word of your little confession about rigging Elena's car, stealing the syndicate funds, and plotting my murder has been broadcasted live to every caporegime, boss, and captain from New York to Palermo."
Dominic stopped breathing. He looked up at the desk, watching the small red light blinking on the recorder.
"No..." he whispered hoarsely. "You... you set me up."
"You walked right into the parlor, little brother," I said, walking over to the cabinet and pouring myself a glass of aged bourbon. "I knew someone inside the organization was leaking information to the feds and undermining my rule six months ago. I suspected it was you. But I needed proof. I needed you to feel safe enough to step out of the shadows."
I took a slow sip of the amber liquid, letting the burn settle in my throat.
"And little Emma? The maid's granddaughter?" Dominic laughed hysterically, a broken, manic sound. "Was she part of your grand master plan too?"
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"Emma was a surprise to me as much as she was to you," I admitted truthfully. "Sophia kept her hidden safely away in the estate's old cottage, waiting for the exact moment Elena's final protection spell—or whatever old-world remedy her family practiced—could safely unlock Isabella's physical trauma. Children have a way of breaking through walls adults spend lifetimes building."
Dominic slumped against the bookshelf, his eyes hollow, realizing that his entire empire had evaporated in less than an hour.
