Chapter 4 Sandro
THE VIP ROOM at Inferno stayed locked except for these meetings. No staff. No security cameras. Just the four of us and whatever problems needed solving away from eyes that might betray us later.
"Sandro." He poured himself vodka, neat. Matteo didn't believe in subtlety in liquor or violence. "We doing this or what?"
"Waiting for the others."
He grunted and took the chair across from me, sprawling in a way that managed to look both relaxed and ready to spring into action. "Heard the new lawyer did good at the bail hearing."
"Better than good. He's sharp."
"Sharp enough to be trusted?"
"Sharp enough to be useful. Trust is something we'll build." Or manufacture, depending on how malleable Emilio Rossi proved to be.
Elio arrived next, precisely on time because Elio was precise about everything.
Tall and lean, dark hair going silver at the temples despite being only thirty-four.
He wore his usual uniform—tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, tie knotted with mathematical exactness.
Everything about Elio screamed control and order.
He ran our security and logistics with the same obsessive attention to detail he applied to his personal appearance.
"Gentlemen." Elio nodded to both of us and poured himself scotch with movements that wasted no energy. Even his gestures were efficient. "I assume this is about the financial irregularities you mentioned."
"Among other things." I waited.
Luca was late, as usual. He operated on his own schedule, managing our legitimate fronts with a charm that made people forget he was as dangerous as the rest of us.
When he finally walked through the door at 10:07, he brought the scent of expensive cologne and the easy smile that had convinced countless politicians and businessmen to trust him.
"Sorry, sorry." Luca straightened his tie—already perfect—and grabbed the bourbon. "Had a city councilman who wanted to discuss zoning ordinances over dinner. Tedious but necessary."
"How tedious?" Elio asked.
"He'll vote the way we want on the Brooklyn development project. Cost us a campaign donation and a promise to hire his nephew as a 'consultant.'" Luca settled into the remaining chair with the fluid grace of a man who'd never worked physically in his life. "The usual."
I waited until everyone had their drinks and their attention. These meetings had a rhythm. Small talk first, then business. We'd built this organization together over fifteen years, and the rituals mattered almost as much as the results.
"We have two problems," I began. "One immediate, one potentially catastrophic. I'll start with catastrophic."
I pulled the ledgers from my briefcase and spread them across the table. Financial records for Inferno and our associated businesses, marked with the discrepancies I'd found over the past three months.
"Someone's skimming money through shell accounts. Fifty thousand dollars over the last quarter. Small amounts, carefully structured to avoid triggering audits. But it's systematic and it's deliberate."
Elio leaned forward, scanning the highlighted transactions with those sharp eyes that catalogued everything. "These accounts weren't authorized."
"No. But they were created using legitimate access codes. Someone with high-level permissions set them up."
"How many people have those codes?" Matteo's voice had gone flat. Dangerous.
"Six." I let that hang in the air. "The four of us. And Vincent Paglia, our accountant."
"And?" Luca prompted.
"And Roberto Martinez, who managed our Brooklyn operations until we buried him in concrete last year."
Silence settled over the room like a shroud. We all understood the mathematics. Four of us sitting here. One accountant who'd been with us for eight years. One corpse.
Which meant someone at this table was betraying us, or Vincent was stupid enough to steal from people who made problems disappear permanently.
"Vincent." Matteo said it like a curse. "I'll grab him tonight. Make him talk."
"No." I kept my voice level. "We're under federal scrutiny. The assault case is minor compared to what the FBI wants to build. Any move we make that looks like witness intimidation or violence gives them ammunition."
"So we just let someone steal from us?" Matteo's knuckles whitened around his glass.
"We investigate carefully. We gather evidence. We find out who's responsible and why before we act." I looked at each of them in turn. "This could be simple theft. Or it could be someone feeding the FBI information about our financial structures. Either way, we need to know before we move."
Elio was already making notes on his phone. "I'll run deep background on Vincent. See if there's any contact with federal agents. Bank records, phone logs, everything."
"Quietly," I emphasized. "If he's compromised, we can't let him know we're looking."
"What about us?" Luca gestured around the table. "We all have the codes. Technically we're all suspects."
"Technically." I met his eyes. "But I've known you all for over a decade. We've built this empire together. We've bled together. I trust you more than I trust myself."
It was mostly true. The partnerships had been forged through shared violence and mutual dependence. We'd each saved the others' lives multiple times. Betrayal from inside this room would be more than theft—it would be sacrilege.
But people betrayed for stranger reasons than money. Fear. Blackmail. Desperation. I'd learned never to assume loyalty was permanent, even among brothers.
"Second problem," I continued, shifting topics before paranoia could take root. "The assault case. Update me on the Costello situation."
Matteo rolled his shoulders like a boxer loosening up.
"The nephew—Anthony Costello—he's recovering.
Arm's healing. He's still refusing to cooperate with the DA, but his uncle Peter is pushing the prosecution hard.
They want to use this to shut down Inferno.
Get us on the defensive while they move into our territory. "
"The witnesses?" Elio asked.
"All three recanted their statements after receiving compensation for their inconvenience." I smiled slightly. "Memories proved surprisingly flexible when properly motivated."
"What about the prosecutor? This Green asshole who's building his career on harassing us?" Luca swirled his bourbon. "Can we apply pressure there?"
"I have someone looking into his background. Everyone has secrets. We just need to find his." I thought about Emilio's performance in court. The way he'd dismantled Green's arguments with surgical precision. "Though my new attorney might make that unnecessary. He's very good at his job."
"The idealistic one from Sterling & Associates?" Elio's tone was skeptical. "I read his file. He's got principles. Those are dangerous in our world."
"Principles are negotiable when the price is right.
And Mr. Rossi is very motivated by the right prices.
" I pulled up the background check on my phone and passed it to Elio.
"Student loan debt, divorce settlement, mediocre salary.
He's drowning financially and desperate for partnership. That desperation makes him useful."
Matteo leaned back in his chair. "He loyal yet?"
"He will be." I retrieved my phone and pulled up the photograph my investigator had taken outside the courthouse.
Emilio walking to his car, briefcase in hand, looking worn down by the weight of choices he was making.
"Men like Emilio Rossi are easy to manipulate once you understand what they need. "
"Which is?" Luca asked.
"Money. Validation. Someone to tell him he's not selling his soul by defending us.
" I studied the photograph. Emilio's profile in the afternoon light, exhausted and beautiful in his desperation.
"He's already attracted to me. Hates himself for it, probably.
But attraction is attraction regardless of how inconvenient. "
Elio's expression sharpened. "You're planning to seduce your own attorney."
"I'm planning to ensure his loyalty through multiple pressure points.
If seduction accomplishes that more efficiently than bribery, then yes.
" I set my phone down. "He's got integrity he can't afford and debt he can't ignore.
We give him enough money to ease the debt while making him compromise the integrity in small ways.
By the time he realizes how far he's fallen, he'll be too implicated to walk away. "
"And the attraction?" Elio pressed.
"Is a bonus. People are easier to control when their emotions are involved. If he develops feelings for me, he'll rationalize away his ethical concerns. Convince himself he's making choices instead of being manipulated."
Matteo laughed, rough and dark. "You're a cold bastard, Sandro."
"I'm practical. We need lawyers who won't fold under federal pressure. Who won't turn on us when things get difficult. Emilio needs money and career advancement badly enough to ignore his better judgment. That makes him perfect."
"Until he figures out what you're doing," Luca pointed out. "Then he becomes a liability who knows too much."
"Then we'll have other options for handling the liability." I finished my scotch. "But I don't think it'll come to that. Emilio wants to believe he's making his own choices. I'll give him just enough autonomy to maintain that illusion while ensuring his choices always benefit us."
The room fell quiet. My partners knew me well enough to recognize when I'd made a decision. They might not approve, but they'd support it because that's what we did. Questioned privately, presented united publicly.
"Fine," Elio said finally. "But if your pet lawyer becomes a problem, I'm handling it my way."
"Agreed. Though I don't anticipate problems. Emilio's smart enough to understand the game once he's too deep to quit playing."
"Speaking of games," Matteo said, "what about the Costello family? We letting them think they can pressure us through the DA?"