Chapter 2 - THREE FRESH GRAVES IN THE WOODS: The Brother Who Smiled While Measuring Their Coffins
Later that evening, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, bloody shadows across the New Jersey pine barrens.
Deep in the woods, thirty miles away from the Moretti estate, a single black pickup truck sat idle among the towering pines. The headlights were turned off, but the interior light cast a dim orange glow over two men standing near the tailgate.
One of them was Vincenzo.
The other was a short, stocky man named Hector, a low-level enforcer for the rival Valenti crime family. Hector was holding a shovel, his boots covered in dark, damp earth. Behind him, three rectangular pits had been dug into the sandy soil. They were deep, clean, and perfectly spaced.
One was adult-sized, broad and long.
The second was slightly smaller, matching the frame of a petite woman.
The third was tragically small. No more than four feet long.
Vincenzo walked to the edge of the smallest grave and looked down into the dark hole. He lit a cigarette, the orange cherry illuminating his sharp jawline. He inhaled deeply, then blew the smoke into the cold night air.
“Are they deep enough?” Vincenzo asked.
“Six feet, just like you wanted, Vinnie,” Hector said, wiping sweat from his forehead despite the autumn chill. “But I don't get it. I understand digging one for Alessandro. He’s the boss, he’s gotta go if you want to take over the family. But the maid? And the kid? Why them?”
Vincenzo took another drag of his cigarette. He looked at the graves with a chilling detachment, as if he were looking at empty parking spaces.
“Sophia Rossi isn’t just a maid, Hector,” Vincenzo said softly. “Her real name is Sophia Valenti. She is the runaway daughter of your former boss, Silvio Valenti.”
Hector gasped, his grip tightening on the shovel. “Silvio’s daughter? The one who ran away with the ledger four years ago? The ledger with the offshore accounts?”
“The very same,” Vincenzo smiled. “She thought she could hide in plain sight. She changed her name, took a job cleaning Alessandro’s house, and lived like a pauper to keep her daughter safe. She thought the Wolf of the East River would protect her without ever knowing who she really was. And she was right. Alessandro has been hosting the key to a fifty-million-dollar empire in his guest house, completely blind to it.”
“And the kid?” Hector asked, his voice trembling slightly. Even for a mob enforcer, a child was a line most didn't want to cross.
Vincenzo’s eyes darkened. “The kid is a witness. And more importantly, she’s Alessandro’s weakness. You saw him today. He was crying in that laundry room over her. The fearsome Wolf of the East River is going soft. If I leave the kid alive, she grows up. She remembers. I don't leave loose ends, Hector. When I take Alessandro’s throne, I want a clean slate. No vengeful daughters, no loyal maids, no former bosses.”
Vincenzo threw his cigarette butt into the smallest grave and crushed it with his leather shoe.
“Alessandro thinks he’s saving her,” Vincenzo whispered, a cruel laugh escaping his lips. “He’s bringing her right into the slaughterhouse. Tomorrow night, the Valenti family hits the estate. We disable the security, we eliminate the loyalists, and we put all three of them in these holes. By Friday morning, I am the Don, and the East River belongs to us.”
Hector nodded slowly, looking at the three dark voids in the earth. “What about the poison? You said she’d be dead before the hit.”
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“The poison was supposed to make it easy,” Vincenzo spat, his frustration finally showing. “If she died of ‘illness,’ Alessandro would have been distracted, grieving, off his guard. But the idiot came home early today. He caught the kid. He brought in Bennett. Now he’s suspicious. We have to move up the timeline. No more slow poison. Tomorrow night, we use lead.”
Vincenzo turned back to his SUV. “Make sure the dirt is ready to be thrown back in. I want them buried deep. I don't want the dogs finding them.”
