Chapter 8 - THE RECORDING
The hissing of the boiler faded into the background.
Celeste’s blistered face twisted in confusion. "What?" she sneered, though her thumb hesitated over the detonator. "You’re bluffing."
"Am I?" Lorenzo stepped forward, indifferent to the explosive threat. His dark eyes were fixed on her with absolute certainty. "When Evelyn told me about a cipher, I knew it was a lie. Her father didn't use ciphers. Tom Carter was a numbers man, but he was also a paranoid survivor. He didn't just keep a ledger. He kept insurance."
Lorenzo held up the silver Zippo lighter Evelyn’s father had given him.
"You searched his apartment. You searched this basement," Lorenzo said. "But you didn't look inside the only thing he actually gave me."
He pressed the hinge of the lighter. He didn't strike the flint. Instead, he pulled the metal casing upward.
The lighter slid out of the silver shell.
Attached to the bottom of the fuel pad was a tiny, waterproof micro-USB drive.
Evelyn gasped, stepping forward.
"I plugged it into my phone on the train while you were sleeping," Lorenzo said, keeping his eyes on Celeste. He pressed play.
A scratchy, distorted audio file filled the quiet basement.
"I can't do it, Celeste. It’s too much. The numbers are one thing, but a hit? She’s Enzo’s sister, for God’s sake!"
It was Evelyn’s father. His voice was frantic, terrified. Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of it, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks.
Then, a second voice replied. Cold, arrogant, and unmistakably Celeste.
"You sign the authorization, Tom. You move the money into the shadow account so it looks like the Lucchese family paid for the hit. If you don't, I will personally go to Cicero tonight and slit your daughter’s throat in her sleep."
The recording clicked off.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Evelyn opened her eyes. The crushing weight that had sat on her chest since the bank vault instantly evaporated. Her father hadn't sold Lorenzo out for money. He had done it to save her. He had sacrificed his soul, and eventually his life, to keep her alive.
Lorenzo looked at Evelyn, a silent apology in his eyes for doubting him.
Then, he looked back at Celeste.
"I just sent that audio file to every single caporegime in the Chicago syndicate," Lorenzo said softly. "They know you ordered the hit on my sister. They know you stole from the family. They know you framed Tom Carter. And they know you tried to kill me tonight."
Celeste’s hand trembled. The remote detonator suddenly looked very heavy.
"They won't follow you," Celeste spat, her voice wavering with panic. "I have the police! I have the politicians!"
"The mob doesn't care about politicians when a boss breaks the fundamental rule," Lorenzo said, taking another step closer. "You killed family. As of two minutes ago, there is a ten-million-dollar bounty on your head. And Dominic?"
Lorenzo pulled up a text message on his screen.
"Dominic just texted me. Said he’s willing to hand you over if I let him keep his territory."
Celeste’s eyes widened. The illusion of control shattered completely. She looked around the basement, realizing the men on the floor weren't waking up. The men upstairs had abandoned her. She was entirely alone.
"I'll blow the building," she screamed, raising the detonator. "We all die!"
"No, we don't," a new voice echoed from the basement stairs.
Everyone turned.
Standing on the wooden steps, holding a pair of heavy wire cutters and a mess of severed red and yellow wires, was Marcus.
He was pale, heavily bandaged around his ribs, and leaning heavily on the handrail, but he was very much alive.
"I found the C4 panel in the hallway, Boss," Marcus grunted, tossing the severed wires onto the concrete floor. "Turns out Dominic buys cheap detonators."
Leo let out a joyful squeal and ran toward the stairs. "Marcus!"
Lorenzo didn't smile, but the relief that washed over his face was profound. He turned back to Celeste.
"It's over," Lorenzo said.
Celeste stared at the useless detonator in her hand. She let it drop to the floor. The plastic shattered. Her shoulders slumped, the arrogant posture finally collapsing.
She looked at Evelyn, a bitter, vicious sneer on her lips. "You think you won, waitress? You think he’s going to let you walk away now that you know everything?"
Evelyn didn't lower her gun. She walked right up to the woman who had ruined her family, destroyed her father, and terrorized the city.
"He doesn't have to let me do anything," Evelyn said, her voice steady and powerful. "I saved his life tonight. Twice. He owes me."
Evelyn raised the gun, pressing the barrel directly against Celeste’s chest. Celeste flinched, closing her eyes, bracing for the bullet.
Evelyn held it there for three agonizing seconds.
Then, she lowered the gun.
"My father wasn't a killer," Evelyn whispered. "And neither am I."
She turned and handed the gun to Lorenzo. "Do whatever you do with her. I'm done."
She walked past the boiler, past the unconscious guards, and started up the stairs, taking Leo’s hand as she went.
As she reached the top step, Lorenzo’s voice called out from the dark basement.
"Evelyn."
She paused, looking back over her shoulder.
Lorenzo stood in the shadows, the silver Zippo in his hand, a strange, unreadable expression on his face.
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"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To pack," she said. "My shift starts at four tomorrow."
