Chapter 4
The basement of the Moretti estate was a stark contrast to the brilliant, cinematic lighting of the floors above. Here, harsh, cold LED lights illuminated the soundproof concrete walls. It was a space designed for extracting truths that men preferred to take to their graves.
But Vincent did not immediately follow his cousin down into the dark. He needed the full picture before he began his interrogation.
He walked into his third-floor private study, tapping a specific rhythm on the heavy steel door. A moment later, the lock clicked, and Emma opened it, her fair face pale but composed.
The study was warmly lit, filled with dark leather furniture and rich mahogany bookshelves. Leo was curled up on a plush sofa, holding a small plush bear, his eyes heavy with exhausted tears.
"He is finally calming down," Emma whispered as Vincent stepped inside and secured the door behind him. "I gave him some warm milk."
Vincent walked over to the sofa. He dropped to one knee, a rare display of vulnerability for the veteran Mafia boss. He gently placed his large, masculine hand on his son's head, stroking the soft hair. Leo leaned into the touch, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.
"I am sorry I didn't see it sooner, Leo," Vincent murmured, his raspy voice thick with suppressed emotion. He stood up and turned to face Emma. "I need the absolute truth, Emma. No matter how much you fear his retaliation. You are under my protection now. How long has this been happening?"
Emma swallowed hard, clasping her hands tightly in front of her pristine white apron.
"It started about four months ago, Mr. Moretti," Emma explained, her American accent trembling slightly as she recalled the memories. "Whenever you traveled for Commission meetings, Dominic would come to the estate. He claimed he was checking on the security."
"Go on," Vincent prompted, his jaw clenching.
"He would dismiss the nursery staff," Emma continued, tears pooling in her eyes. "I only found out because I forgot my cleaning supplies in the adjacent room one evening. I heard Dominic yelling. He was telling Leo that he was pathetic, that he would never be a real boss."
"Did he strike him?" Vincent asked, the words feeling like shattered glass in his throat.
"I didn't see it happen that night," Emma admitted, shaking her head. "But the next morning, when I was bathing Leo, I found bruises on his upper arms. They were shaped like adult fingers. When I asked Leo what happened, he started crying and begged me not to tell Dominic. He said Dominic promised to hurt my family if I opened my mouth."
Vincent closed his eyes, his breathing slow and dangerously controlled. His own cousin had been systematically abusing his three-year-old son, terrorizing the staff into silence to cover his tracks.
"Why didn't you come to me immediately?" Vincent asked, his eyes snapping open, piercing her with their intensity.
"I tried, sir," Emma pleaded, her fair, rosy cheeks flushing with shame. "I requested a private meeting with you three times. But Dominic intercepts all your household schedules. He found out I asked to see you. He cornered me in the laundry room, put a gun to my head, and told me he had men watching my mother's house in the suburbs."
The pieces fell violently into place. Dominic had built a wall of fear around the child, isolating him from his own father while slowly breaking his spirit.
"You showed immense courage tonight, Emma," Vincent said, his voice dropping to a low, lethal register. "You put yourself between a monster and my son. I will never forget that."
"What are you going to do?" Emma asked, looking at the formidable man before her.
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"I am going to find out why a senior capo risked his life to abuse a toddler," Vincent stated, adjusting his tailored suit jacket. "Because a man like Dominic does not take risks without a prize in mind. He is working with someone."
Vincent turned toward the door, leaving Emma to guard his most precious asset, while he went downstairs to hunt for traitors.
