Chapter 10
The Man Behind the Ledger
Owen was not in the room they went to.
That was the first lie.
The second was the man who greeted them at the warehouse and said Silvio had been "helping the family clean up a bookkeeping problem" as if those words had any right to sit beside the stench of oil and wet concrete.
Silvio was there too, neat as ever, cuffs perfect, expression mildly annoyed as if this were an inconvenience and not a betrayal.
Mia stopped at the threshold.
Dante did not.
"Where is he?" Mia asked.
Silvio spread his hands. "Alive, if you cooperate."
The room tightened.
Dante's voice was calm enough to make the hair at the back of Mia's neck rise. "You had one job."
"And you had one weakness." Silvio looked at Mia, then smiled. "Her."
Mia hated that the word landed.
She looked past him, trying to find Owen in the warehouse layout, in the shadows, in the hard lines of crates stacked like walls. Nothing. Only the ugly certainty that she was being used as a door into the truth.
"You framed my brother," she said.
Silvio's expression barely changed. "Your brother wasn't framed. He was noisy."
Dante took one step forward.
Silvio's gaze went sharp. "Careful, Dante. You don't want to make this family problem public."
"You made it public when you touched her name."
That drew a small smile from Silvio, and Mia understood then that he enjoyed this. Not the violence. The control. The moment where everyone in the room had to decide what he already believed about them.
"Your mother touched the books too," Silvio said lightly. "Before she disappeared."
Mia froze.
Dante's hand shot out and stopped her from taking the bait, fingers closing around her wrist before the impulse could carry her forward.
"Don't," he said under his breath.
Silvio noticed the touch and made a thoughtful sound. "So it's true. She doesn't know."
"Know what?" Mia demanded.
Silvio looked at Dante instead of answering her. "You never told her?"
"Tell me," Mia said.
Silvio tilted his head. "Ask your underboss why your mother stopped working for us the night your father died."
The words hit like a shove.
Mia turned to Dante.
He did not look surprised. That was worse.
"Dante."
His jaw flexed. "Later."
"No. Now."
Silvio laughed softly. "That's the problem, isn't it? There was never going to be a now that didn't hurt."
Dante moved then, fast and controlled, one hand slamming Silvio back against the crates. The sound cracked through the warehouse. Mia flinched, but she did not look away.
Silvio only smiled wider.
"There he is," he said, breath uneven. "The man who thinks restraint makes him innocent."
Dante did not answer.
He just held him there long enough to make the threat clear, then let go with a precision that was more frightening than rage.
Silvio straightened his cuffs.
"You'll want to hear the rest of the ledger before you burn me down," he said.
He slid a photocopy across the table.
Mia's eyes found a line item near the bottom.
Hart, Elena - relocation payment.
The amount was followed by a location.
And a date.
The night her mother disappeared.
The same night her father died.
Mia felt the world go thin around the edges.
Silvio watched her read it and said, very softly, "You never knew what your mother bought with that money, did you?"