Chapter 8 - THE EXCHANGE
The heavy splash of the revolver hitting the water was the only sound in the alley, aside from the relentless driving rain.
"Kick it away," Valente ordered.
Silas nudged the gun with his boot, his face twisted in a mask of pure, humiliated rage. His guards stood paralyzed, their weapons pointed at the ground, none of them willing to risk a spark in a gas-filled alley.
"Ruby," Valente called out, his voice steady. "Close the valve."
Beneath the grate, Ruby’s hand cramped as she gripped the heavy brass wheel. She twisted it hard to the right. The sharp hiss of escaping gas sputtered and died. She extinguished the silver lighter, plunging the basement back into darkness.
Her legs gave out, and she slumped against the brick wall, gasping for air, the adrenaline leaving her system in a violent crash. She had done it.
Above ground, Valente moved with terrifying speed.
He didn't draw a weapon. He closed the twenty feet between himself and his brother in seconds. Before Silas could react, Valente drove a devastating right hook into Silas’s jaw. The crack of bone echoed off the brick walls.
Silas collapsed into the wet asphalt, spitting blood.
Valente stood over him, breathing heavily. He looked at the three guards who had betrayed him.
"Walk away," Valente said softly, but the threat was unmistakable. "Leave the city tonight. If I ever see your faces again, there will be no conversation."
The guards didn't hesitate. They backed away, abandoning Silas, and sprinted into the darkness of the city.
Valente knelt down beside Chef Rossi and the hostess. He pulled a pocket knife and quickly sliced through their zip-ties, pulling the gags from their mouths.
"Are you hurt?" Valente asked, his voice softening entirely.
Chef Rossi rubbed his raw wrists, shaking his head, his eyes wide with shock. "No, Mr. Carmine. Thank you. My God, thank you."
"Go home, Rossi," Valente helped the older man to his feet. "Take a month off. Paid. I will rebuild the kitchen."
As the chef and the hostess hurried away, the heavy grate in the alley groaned. Valente walked over and pulled it open with his good arm.
Ruby climbed out, her face covered in soot, her oversized uniform soaked in rain and sweat. She looked exhausted, battered, and more beautiful than anyone Valente had ever seen.
He reached out and pulled her up the rest of the way. He didn't let go of her hand.
"You were perfect," Valente whispered, looking deeply into her eyes.
Ruby managed a weak, trembling smile. "I never want to see a lighter again."
A wet, hacking cough broke the moment. Silas was dragging himself upward, leaning against the brick wall. His lip was split, his expensive coat ruined.
"You think this is over?" Silas spat, glaring at Valente. "The Morettis know about the ledgers. They know I promised them the city. If I don't deliver, they will come for you. They will tear this family apart."
Valente slowly walked toward his brother. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cassette tape.
"The Morettis don't care about the city," Valente said coldly. "They care about profit. Ten minutes ago, while we were in the tunnels, I sent a copy of this tape and a photograph of the ledgers to the heads of the five families in New York."
Silas’s face went completely slack. The bravado vanished, replaced by sheer, existential terror.
"You didn't," Silas breathed.
"I did," Valente confirmed. "The commission now knows that you have been skimming from their shipments to fund your war with me. You stole from them, Silas. You broke the cardinal rule."
Sirens began to wail in the distance, growing rapidly louder. Valente had called the police.
"I didn't steal for myself!" Silas screamed, tears of panic mixing with the rain on his face. "I did it for the family! Father was weak! You were weak! I made us strong!"
"You made us murderers," Valente corrected quietly.
He turned his back on his brother. He walked back to Ruby, placing his coat over her shivering shoulders.
"Come with me," Valente said, guiding her toward the remaining SUV.
May you like
As they drove away, Ruby looked out the back window. The red and blue lights of the police cruisers flooded the alley, illuminating Silas as he fell to his knees in the rain, screaming Valente’s name into the empty night. It wasn't the police Silas feared; it was the inevitable vengeance of the cartel he had betrayed. He was a dead man walking.
Ruby leaned her head against Valente’s shoulder. The leather of the seat was warm. The nightmare was finally ending.
