Chapter 4 - Blood at Pier Nineteen
Vincent did not bring Sophie to the pier.
He brought a war.
At eleven forty-five, three black vehicles rolled through the abandoned industrial district with their headlights off. Rain misted across broken warehouses and rusted loading cranes. The river beyond Pier Nineteen moved like black glass.
Sophie remained at the mansion under Mrs. Russo’s care and twelve armed guards.
Only Vincent, Tony, Marco, and six trusted men came to the exchange.
That was already too many possible traitors.
Vincent wore a concealed vest beneath his coat. In his pocket was the photograph of Dominic and Elena. He did not know why he had brought it. Perhaps as proof. Perhaps as a reminder of what hesitation had already cost him.
They parked inside a warehouse opposite the pier.
Tony checked his weapon.
“If they don’t see Sophie, they may kill Elena.”
“If I bring Sophie, they kill them both.”
Marco watched the dark river through binoculars.
“Movement near the south crane.”
Vincent took the binoculars.
A white van sat near the end of the pier. Two men stood beside it. One had gold teeth.
The other wore a dark scarf around his neck.
“Snake tattoo,” Vincent said.
Rocco Vale’s men.
But no sign of Rocco.
No sign of Elena.
Vincent’s phone rang at midnight.
“You came without the girl,” the distorted voice said.
“You came without the mother.”
A pause.
Then the van’s rear doors opened.
Elena was pushed into view.
Her hands were bound. Blood stained one side of her face. Even at a distance, Vincent recognized her.
She looked smaller than memory.
Older.
But alive.
Vincent felt something dangerous move through him.
“Let me speak to her.”
The man with gold teeth held a phone to Elena’s ear.
“Vincent?” she whispered.
“I’m here.”
“Don’t bring Sophie.”
“She’s safe.”
Elena released a sound that was half sob, half prayer.
“You have to listen. The ledger—”
A hand struck her.
Vincent’s vision narrowed.
The distorted caller spoke again.
“Bring Sophie forward.”
“She isn’t here.”
“Then Elena dies.”
“You kill her, you lose the ledger.”
“We know you don’t have it.”
“You’re wrong.”
Vincent signaled Marco.
Two shooters moved into position on the warehouse roof.
The caller laughed.
“You still think this is an exchange. It isn’t. It’s a test.”
“A test of what?”
“Loyalty.”
Gunfire exploded behind Vincent.
One of his own men fell.
The warehouse erupted into chaos.
A Torino soldier near the eastern door opened fire on the others. Marco tackled Vincent behind a concrete barrier as bullets tore through the metal wall.
“Benedetti!” Tony shouted.
The traitor was Carlo Benedetti, a mid-level captain who had worked for Vincent eleven years.
Tony fired twice.
Benedetti dropped.
At the pier, the van began moving.
“Go!” Vincent shouted.
Marco and Tony followed him outside.
Their vehicle tore across the rain-slick pavement toward the pier while the remaining men exchanged fire behind them.
The white van accelerated.
Vincent leaned from the passenger window and shot at its tires. The first bullet sparked off metal. The second struck rubber.
The van swerved but kept moving.
Gold Teeth fired through the rear opening.
The windshield cracked.
Marco ducked over the wheel.
Tony returned fire from the back seat.
The van reached the edge of the pier.
Its rear doors swung open.
Elena was no longer inside.
Vincent saw her kneeling near the water, wrists tied to a steel chain connected to a concrete block.
The block slid toward the edge.
Vincent threw open the door before their vehicle stopped.
He ran.
A Serpent stepped from behind a crane and raised a shotgun.
Tony shot him first.
Vincent reached Elena as the concrete block tipped into the river.
The chain snapped tight.
Elena was dragged across the wet boards.
Vincent caught her beneath the arms.
The weight pulled both of them toward the edge.
“Cut it!” he shouted.
Marco dropped beside them and sawed at the rope securing the chain around Elena’s wrists.
The concrete block sank deeper.
Vincent’s boots lost traction.
Half his body crossed the edge.
Elena screamed.
Then Marco cut through the rope.
The chain vanished into the river.
Vincent fell backward with Elena on top of him.
For one second, they lay beneath the rain, breathing.
“Elena.”
She looked at him.
“You found her?”
“Yes.”
“She’s safe?”
“Yes.”
Elena closed her eyes.
The white van had crashed into a stack of shipping containers. Gold Teeth stumbled out, firing wildly.
Tony put a bullet through his leg.
Marco dragged him behind a barrier while Vincent lifted Elena.
“Where is Rocco?” Vincent demanded.
Gold Teeth spat blood.
“Watching.”
“From where?”
“Closer than you think.”
Vincent struck him once.
“Who killed Dominic?”
Gold Teeth grinned.
“The same man who kissed his coffin.”
Tony went still.
Marco’s expression changed.
Vincent heard the words, but another sound interrupted him.
A rifle shot from across the river.
Gold Teeth’s head snapped backward.
He collapsed.
Sniper.
Tony shoved Vincent down as another round struck the railing.
Marco pulled Elena behind the concrete base of the crane.
“Shooter on the warehouse roof across the channel!”
Vincent looked through the rain.
A figure stood briefly against the skyline.
Then disappeared.
Police sirens wailed in the distance.
Too quickly.
Someone had called them before the exchange began.
“We need to move,” Tony said.
Vincent lifted Elena into the vehicle.
As Marco drove away, Vincent looked back at Pier Nineteen.
On the ground beside Gold Teeth’s body, someone had painted a message in white.
THE BROTHER ALWAYS DIES FIRST.
Elena saw it.
Her face drained of color.
“Rocco used to say that,” she whispered.
Vincent turned to her.
“You knew him?”
“Dominic did.”
“How?”
“Rocco wasn’t working only for Caruso.” Elena gripped Vincent’s sleeve. “He was working for someone inside your family.”
“Who?”
“I never knew the name. Dominic called him the Shepherd.”
Tony and Marco exchanged a glance.
Vincent noticed.
“What?”
Tony looked toward the road.
“Nothing.”
Vincent drew his gun and pressed it against Tony’s side.
Elena gasped.
“Boss,” Marco said.
Vincent’s voice remained calm.
“Gold Teeth said Dominic’s killer kissed his coffin.”
Tony did not move.
“So did fifty other men,” he said.
“You were the last person to see Dominic alive.”
“I was.”
“You told me he drove away alone.”
“He did.”
Elena shook her head.
“No. He didn’t.”
All three men looked at her.
“Dominic called me from the car,” she said. “Someone was with him.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn’t say. He only told me that if anything happened, I had to protect Sophie from the Shepherd.”
Vincent’s gun remained against Tony.
“Did you get into that car?”
“No.”
“Did Marco?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Tony’s eyes met Vincent’s in the rearview mirror.
“Your uncle.”
Vincent froze.
“Gabriel?”
Tony nodded once.
Gabriel Torino was Vincent’s father’s younger brother. He had acted as family counselor, mediator, and trusted elder for decades. He had helped raise Vincent and Dominic after their father went to prison.
He had stood beside Vincent at Dominic’s funeral.
He had kissed the coffin.
“He said Dominic asked for advice,” Tony continued. “I watched Gabriel enter the car. I never told you because he ordered me not to, and because the next morning Dominic was dead.”
Vincent lowered the weapon slowly.
“You kept this from me for eight years.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel told me your father had authorized the meeting. And because I was a coward.”
The car entered the private road leading toward the mansion.
Ahead, the security gate stood open.
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
It should have been closed.
The guard booth was empty.
He reached for his phone.
No signal.
The mansion appeared beyond the trees.
Several windows were shattered.
Smoke poured from the east wing.
Vincent felt every drop of blood leave his face.
“Sophie.”
Marco accelerated.
They found two guards dead at the gate and three more near the front steps. Inside, alarms screamed through smoke-filled corridors.
“Mrs. Russo!” Vincent shouted.
A wounded guard crawled from the library.
“They came through the service tunnels.”
“How many?”
“Ten. Maybe twelve.”
“Where’s the girl?”
The guard looked toward the stairs.
Vincent ran.
Sophie’s bedroom door had been kicked open.
The room was empty.
On the pillow lay the crumpled five-dollar bill.
Vincent had kept it in his coat.
Someone had taken it from him at the pier and brought it here.
Beneath the money was a note.
One child for one ledger.
Come alone, nephew.
May you like
At the bottom was the signature Vincent had seen on birthday cards, legal papers, and family letters since childhood.
Gabriel Torino.
