Chapter 5 - Confessions in the Dark
"I didn't know," Vincent said, his voice cracking, a rare tear cutting through the rain-soaked stubble on his cheek. "Marco, I swear to you on my mother's grave, I was shown files, ledgers, witness statements... Salvatore swore to me that you were selling us out to the feds."
Marco let out a harsh, dry cough that rattled his chest. He tried to sit up, but Vincent gently pushed him back down onto the pillows.
"Salvatore..." Marco spat the name like poison. "The old fox. He didn't want a partnership, Vincent. He wanted a puppet. When he saw how close we were—how the captains trusted us both more than they feared him—he knew we'd eventually take over the council. So he engineered the whole thing."
Marco closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his strength. "That night at the pier, the gun you gave me... he had swapped the live rounds for blanks just hours before, knowing you'd pull the trigger out of panic. But when I went down into the water, his men were waiting with real guns. They shot me twice in the shoulder before I managed to slip under the pilings and swim out into the shipping lanes. I spent fifteen years hiding in the shadows, Vincent. Moving from city to city, country to country, always looking over my shoulder, because I knew the moment Salvatore found out I was alive, he would finish the job."
"Why didn't you reach out to me?" Vincent asked, the pain of betrayal stinging his chest. "You knew I would have protected you if I had known the truth!"
"How could I?" Marco opened his eyes, staring directly into Vincent's soul. "You were sitting on the throne Salvatore built for you. You were surrounded by his men, his accountants, his bodyguards. If I had walked up to you, his snipers would have put a bullet in my head before I could say three words. I had to keep my head down, especially after Sophia was born."
"Sophia..." Vincent softened at the mention of the little girl. "She's incredible, Marco. Fearless. She walked right into the lion's den tonight because she remembered your words."
A faint, proud smile touched the corners of Marco's mouth. "She's all I had left after her mother passed away two years ago. I tried to keep her hidden, kept us off the grid, but Salvatore's men... they caught up to us in Baltimore three days ago. They ambushed our safehouse. I took a bullet protecting her, managed to steal a car, and drove straight here. It was my last gamble. If you were still Salvatore's loyal dog, we'd both be dead by morning. But I was hoping... I was hoping my brother was still somewhere inside the monster you had to become."
May you like
Vincent gripped Marco's hand tighter, his knuckles turning white. The guilt that had weighed him down for fifteen years instantly transformed into a cold, lethal fury. The grief was gone. Now, there was only war.
"You are my brother, Marco," Vincent said, his voice dropping an octave into a tone of absolute, chilling resolve. "And nobody touches my family. Salvatore thinks he owns this city. He thinks he can pull our strings from his estate on the hill. By this time tomorrow, his empire will be ash."
