Chapter 5 - Silent Moves on the Board
The transition was remarkably quiet. By noon the next day, Nora's bakery had a new owner on paper—a dummy corporation called "Sugar Hill Holdings," which was entirely controlled by a blind trust Dominic had established years ago. The Capasso family received their money, the bank was satisfied, and Nora Hayes was officially the sole proprietor and head baker of Sweet Treats.
For the neighborhood, nothing seemed to change. The bell above the door still jingled when customers entered, the smell of fresh bread and cinnamon rolls still drifted onto 4th Street, and Nora still wore her flour-dusted apron.
But in the back room, behind a heavy curtain where the flour sacks were stacked, a new dynamic was forming.
Dominic sat at a small oak desk Tony had brought in. In front of him was a simple black notebook and a cheap burner phone. He had discarded his fifty-thousand-dollar suits for a simple grey cashmere sweater and comfortable trousers. He looked less like a mafia don and more like a retired professor, but his eyes were sharper than ever.
"Tony," Dominic said, not looking up from his notebook. "Status on the eastern docks."
Tony, who was sitting on a wooden crate of apples eating a warm blueberry muffin, swallowed quickly. "Carmine shifted the union guys on Pier 3. He put his brother-in-law, Sal, in charge of the manifestos. Sal’s an idiot, Boss. He doesn't know the difference between import tax and a parking ticket."
"Good," Dominic muttered, writing a name down. "Sal is greedy. Send him an anonymous tip about a container of high-end electronics sitting on Pier 5. Tell him the guards are paid off. He won't be able to resist stealing it."
"Why would we want him to steal it?" Tony asked, confused.
"Because that container belongs to the federal government," Dominic said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "It's a sting operation the FBI has been running for six months. I’ve been keeping them away from it to protect our interests. If Sal touches it, the feds will descend on Carmine’s operation like locusts. Carmine will have to spend his energy, and his money, keeping his brother-in-law out of federal prison."
Tony’s eyes went wide. "Jesus, Boss. You're setting them up to fight the feds."
"I'm merely letting them make their own choices," Dominic said.
The curtain pulled back, and Nora stepped into the room holding a tray. On it was a cup of black coffee and a small plate with two warm, glazed cinnamon rolls.
"You guys look like you're plotting to overthrow a small country," she said, setting the tray down in front of Dominic. "Eat. You're both too skinny."
"We're managing our assets, Nora," Dominic said, though he didn't hesitate to pick up a cinnamon roll. The warmth of the yeast and the sweet, spicy smell of cinnamon filled the small office. "And this is excellent."
"It's my grandmother's recipe," Nora said, leaning against the desk. "She used to say that sugar is the only thing that can make a hard day feel soft. How are your legs today?"
Dominic paused, his roll halfway to his mouth. "The same. Dead weight."
"They're not dead weight," Nora said, her voice gentler now. She reached down and patted his knee. "They're just resting. You spent forty years running around this city trying to control everything. Maybe they just wanted you to sit down and think for a change."
Dominic looked at her hand on his knee. He couldn't feel the physical touch, but he could feel the warmth of her presence, a sensation that seemed to seep through his skin and fill the cold spaces inside him.
"I've done a lot of bad things, Nora," Dominic said quietly. "The kind of things that make a man deserve to lose his legs. Or his life."
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"I know," Nora said, looking him in the eye. "I read the papers. But I also know that since you've been sitting in this room, the local kids haven't been getting shaken down by the street gangs on 4th Street. I know that the landlord who was going to evict Mrs. Gable suddenly decided to forgive her rent for a year. You think you're a monster, Dominic. But I think you're just a man who forgot that power can be used to build things, not just break them."
She turned and walked back to the kitchen, leaving Dominic staring at his notebook. For the first time in his life, the numbers on the page didn't seem to matter as much as the warmth of the room around him.
