Chapter 3 - THE TRAITOR IN THE ROOM
“Paulie?”
Dominic’s voice was a mixture of absolute disbelief and raw betrayal. He stared at the suppressed pistol leveled at his chest, then at the man who had been a second father to him.
The dining room erupted into chaos. The thirty-two guests scrambled backward. Chairs toppled over. Crystal wine glasses shattered against the hardwood floor, spilling dark red wine that looked terrifyingly like blood.
“Everybody stay exactly where you are!” Paulie barked. Six armed guards—men Dominic paid to protect his family—stepped into the room from the hallway. They raised their rifles, but they weren't aiming at the exits. They were aiming at Dominic’s loyalists.
I didn't think. I just acted.
I grabbed Sophie by her waist and dragged her backward, pulling her under the heavy mahogany dining table. The thick, floor-length tablecloth fell over us like a curtain, hiding us in the shadows. I pulled her face into my chest, wrapping my arms around her head to muffle her frightened whimpers.
“Shh, my sweet girl. I’ve got you,” I whispered against her hair, my own heart hammering so hard I thought it might crack my ribs.
Above us, the tension was suffocating. I could see the shiny black dress shoes of the guests and the pointed red heels of Vanessa standing frozen near the door.
“Put the gun down, Paulie,” Dominic said. His voice had lost its tremor. It was now a graveyard of emotion—cold, flat, and deadly. “You were my mentor. I carried your mother’s casket. You’re really going to shoot me in my own dining room?”
“I don’t want to, Dom,” Paulie replied, his heavy footsteps stepping closer to the table. “But you couldn't just let the dead rest. You had to answer that damn phone.”
“You knew,” Dominic realized, the horror seeping into his tone. “You knew Isabella survived the crash.”
“Knew?” Vanessa laughed. It was a manic, hysterical sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Dominic, you blind fool. Paulie didn't just know. Paulie drove me to the clinic.”
I clamped my hand over my own mouth to stop a gasp. Under the table, Sophie clung to my apron, her little fingers trembling.
“Why?” Dominic asked, his voice cracking slightly. “She treated you like family, Paulie. She knitted you sweaters. She trusted you.”
“And she was going to ruin us!” Paulie snapped, his shoes pacing angrily. “She found out about the port shipments, Dom. She found out we were moving weapons, not just liquor. She packed her bags. She was going to the FBI the morning of her crash. She was going to take the immunity deal and take you and Sophie into witness protection!”
My eyes widened in the dark. Isabella hadn't been running away from Dominic. She had been trying to save him. She wanted to pull her husband and daughter out of the mafia life before it destroyed them all.
“She was protecting our family,” Dominic growled.
“She was destroying our empire!” Paulie countered. “If she talked, we all went to federal prison for life. I couldn't let her do that. So, I had her brakes cut. I didn't mean for her to survive. When she did, I panicked. I called Vanessa.”
“Because Vanessa always cleans up your messes,” Vanessa sneered. Through a gap in the tablecloth, I saw her strut back toward the center of the room. Her fear was gone, replaced by a toxic arrogance. “You were weak, Paulie. You couldn't finish the job. So I walked into that clinic, kissed her on the forehead, and put a lethal dose of potassium chloride into her line. A heart attack. So clean. So untraceable.”
“You monster,” Dominic whispered. I heard the rustle of his suit jacket. He was preparing to lunge, weapon or no weapon.
“Don't move, Dom!” Paulie warned, clicking the hammer back on his pistol.
“You think my men outside will let you leave this house alive, Paulie?” Dominic challenged.
“They already work for me,” Paulie said smugly. “It’s been four years, Dom. You’ve been grieving. You’ve been distracted. Vanessa and I have been quietly taking over the capos, one by one. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of our new partnership. But you had to dig into the past.”
Under the table, I desperately looked around. We were trapped. If Paulie shot Dominic, Sophie and I would be next. There were no witnesses allowed in a coup.
Then, I noticed something lying on the floor a few feet away.
When Vanessa had panicked earlier, she had dropped her glittering clutch purse. It had spilled open. Lying on the Persian rug was a small, ornate object.
A pearl rosary.
I recognized it instantly. It wasn't Vanessa’s. It was the same rosary I had seen in a photograph in Dominic’s office. It belonged to Dominic’s late mother. It was a priceless family heirloom. Why did Vanessa have it in her purse tonight?
Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind. Three days ago, Vanessa had demanded I clean Paulie’s guest suite. I had found her inside, searching through Paulie’s luggage. She had quickly hidden something in her pocket. The rosary.
She wasn't Paulie’s partner. She was playing him, too.
“Paulie, wait!” Vanessa suddenly said, her tone shifting to urgency. “Don't shoot him here. There are too many guests. Let the guards escort the guests out first. We do this quietly.”
Paulie frowned. “No witnesses. Nobody leaves.”
“Are you crazy?” Vanessa hissed, stepping closer to the older man. “If you massacre thirty heads of families, the Commission will have a hit on us by morning! Let them leave. They know who is in charge now. They will stay silent.”
Paulie hesitated. His gun lowered an inch. “Fine. Guards, escort the guests to their cars. Confiscate their phones.”
As the guards began shuffling the terrified guests out of the room, Paulie turned his back to Vanessa for exactly one second.
It was all she needed.
Vanessa reached into the thigh slit of her red gown, pulled a small, silver derringer, and pressed it directly to the back of Paulie’s neck.
BANG.
The deafening crack echoed through the room. Paulie crumpled to the floor instantly, dead before he hit the carpet.
The remaining guards spun around in shock.
Vanessa stood over Paulie’s body, her face splattered with blood, looking like a demon in a crimson dress. She aimed the derringer directly at Dominic.
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“I was never going to share the throne with a dinosaur like him,” Vanessa said coldly. She looked around the now-empty room. Then, her eyes snapped downward. Straight toward the tablecloth.
“Hannah,” Vanessa called out, her voice dripping with venom. “Crawl out from under there. Bring the brat. And go upstairs and fetch the winter coat from my closet. The one with the heavy lining. Right now, or I put a bullet in Dominic’s head.”
