Chapter 8 - The Truth Behind the Wheel
Trenton State Prison smelled of disinfectant, despair, and stale coffee.
In the bleak visitor's booth, separated by a thick sheet of reinforced Plexiglas, Frankie "The Tooth" Salvo sat wearing an orange jumpsuit, looking ten years older than his actual age. His fingers drummed nervously on the metal table as he stared at the tall, impeccably dressed man sitting on the other side.
He recognized Dominic Moretti immediately. Everyone in the underworld knew who Moretti was. And everyone knew what happened when Moretti came to visit you in prison.
"Mr. Moretti," Frankie squeaked, his voice cracking. "I swear, I didn't know she was connected to you! If I knew it was Elena Rossi, I swear on my life I never would have—"
"Shut up," Dominic said.
The single word was enough to cut Frankie off mid-sentence.
Dominic leaned forward, resting his forearms on the metal ledge. His eyes were cold, flat, unreadable. "Tell me about the night she died. Every detail. If I catch you in a single lie, your sentence here won't matter, because you won't live to see parole."
Frankie swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. "It... it wasn't supposed to be a hit-and-run, Mr. Moretti. I swear on my mother's grave!"
Dominic's eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"
"It was a hit," Frankie whispered, leaning closer to the glass, looking around nervously as if the prison guards were listening. "Someone paid me fifty thousand dollars to put her in the hospital. Just put her in the hospital! Break a leg, put her out of commission for a few months. They said she was poking around where she shouldn't have been."
A cold sweat broke out across Dominic's neck. "Who paid you?"
"I don't know his name! He wore a suit, gave me the cash in an envelope at a diner in Queens. But... but he had a ring. A heavy gold signet ring with a crest on it. A double-headed eagle holding a broken sword."
Dominic froze.
The double-headed eagle holding a broken sword.
It wasn't a rival mafia family. It wasn't the Marconis, or the Luccheses, or the Russians.
It was the Moretti family's own inner council insignia. Someone inside Dominic's own organization had ordered the hit on Elena Rossi seven years after he walked away, believing she was still a threat or a liability to the syndicate's bloodline.
May you like
And Dominic had given those men power. He had trusted them.
He stood up so fast the metal chair scraped loudly against the concrete floor. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the visitor's booth, leaving Frankie shaking in his seat.
