Chapter 6 - Thirty Men Lowered Their Guns
Sylvio spent sunrise inside a police station.
Twenty-four hours earlier, the idea would have seemed impossible.
He had avoided interrogation rooms his entire adult life.
Now he sat voluntarily beneath fluorescent lights while Lucy slept on a couch in an adjacent office, wrapped in a police blanket.
Detective Rebecca Hale placed a cup of coffee in front of him.
Sylvio looked at it.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Relax. It came from a vending machine.”
For the first time since dinner, he almost laughed.
“Not hungry?”
“Not especially.”
“You’re going to have trust issues with restaurants for a while.”
He looked through the window toward Lucy.
“I already had trust issues.”
Hale sat.
“We found enough at the restaurant to confirm someone tampered with your food.”
Sylvio said nothing.
“And Frankie Rizzo is talking.”
“That surprises me.”
“He’s sixty-eight and apparently less enthusiastic about prison than he used to be.”
“What about Vincent?”
“Gone.”
Sylvio expected that.
Vincent had prepared for the possibility of failure.
False identities.
Cash.
Safe houses.
Maybe people inside law enforcement.
“You’ll find him,” Sylvio said.
Hale studied him.
“You’re giving me a lot of confidence for someone who spent twenty years avoiding my office.”
“Maybe we’ve both been doing the wrong jobs.”
She almost smiled.
Then her expression became serious.
“Tony Duca wants immunity.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to decide.”
“I know.”
“He says he can prove corruption going back three decades.”
Sylvio looked at the table.
“Then let him prove it.”
Hale leaned back.
“Do you understand where that leads?”
“Yes.”
“To you.”
“Yes.”
“You could lose everything.”
Sylvio looked toward Lucy again.
“I almost did.”
Hale followed his gaze.
“She really your niece?”
“DNA will answer that.”
“You don’t believe Tony?”
“I don’t believe anyone tonight.”
Lucy stirred in her sleep.
Sylvio watched her pull the blanket closer.
Then quietly added:
“But I hope he’s telling the truth.”
By afternoon, Tony’s claim was confirmed.
A hospital archive retained Isabella’s records.
Lucy’s birth certificate listed no father.
DNA did the rest.
Lucy was Isabella’s daughter.
Tony was her biological father.
Sylvio Romano was her uncle.
The knowledge produced no dramatic celebration.
Sylvio simply sat beside Lucy and gave her the result.
“So it’s true?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re really Mom’s brother?”
“Yes.”
“Did she like you?”
The question hurt.
Sylvio smiled faintly.
“When we were children.”
“What happened?”
“I became difficult.”
Lucy considered this.
“You still are.”
Sylvio stared at her.
Then laughed.
A real laugh.
Detective Hale, standing outside the room, looked surprised.
Lucy smiled.
It was the first time Sylvio had seen her do that.
Then she asked:
“Am I going back outside?”
The smile disappeared.
“No.”
“To Tony?”
Sylvio hesitated.
“He’s your father.”
“I don’t want him.”
“Lucy—”
“He left me.”
Sylvio couldn’t argue.
She pulled her knees against her chest.
“Mom said family is who comes back for you.”
Sylvio remembered Isabella saying something similar when they were young.
Lucy looked at him.
“You came.”
“I almost didn’t know you existed.”
“But you came when they took me.”
He nodded.
“Then I want to stay with you.”
That frightened Sylvio more than any enemy ever had.
His home was secure, but security wasn’t the same as safety.
His name brought danger.
His past brought consequences.
And he had no idea how to raise a child.
“I’m not exactly qualified.”
Lucy frowned.
“For what?”
“To be responsible for you.”
“Do you know how to make grilled cheese?”
“No.”
“Cereal?”
“Yes.”
“Then we can start there.”
Sylvio laughed again.
But outside that room, his world was collapsing.
By evening, news spread through the Romano organization.
Frankie alive.
Tony alive.
Vincent a traitor.
Marco cooperating.
Documents seized.
Long-forgotten crimes reopened.
Some men remained loyal to Sylvio.
Others panicked.
Several disappeared.
Two crews stopped answering calls.
A group from the waterfront openly declared Vincent the new leader.
Sylvio’s empire had entered the civil war Lucy predicted.
But Sylvio refused to participate.
When Marco was released temporarily while authorities continued questioning him, he found Sylvio sitting in the restaurant before sunrise the next morning.
Every table was empty.
The poisoned plate had long been removed.
Sylvio stared at the chair where Lucy had sat.
Marco stopped several feet away.
“You shouldn’t be here alone.”
“I’m not afraid of an empty restaurant.”
“You should be afraid of Vincent.”
Sylvio turned.
“I’m done being afraid of men like Vincent.”
Marco looked exhausted.
“What are you planning?”
“Closing it.”
“The restaurant?”
“Everything.”
Marco stared.
Sylvio continued.
“The illegal shipments. Protection operations. Front companies. Everything connected to them.”
“You can’t just close thirty years overnight.”
“Yes, I can.”
“People depend on you.”
“Then they’ll receive severance from legitimate businesses.”
Marco laughed in disbelief.
“You’ve become Gabriel.”
“No.”
Sylvio looked around the restaurant.
“I became him thirty years too late.”
Marco sat.
“What about the men who won’t accept it?”
“That’s their problem.”
“It becomes yours when they come after you.”
Sylvio nodded.
“That’s why I’m giving Hale everything.”
Marco’s mouth opened.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“You’ll go to prison.”
“Maybe.”
“You could lose the restaurant.”
“Maybe.”
“Your homes?”
“Yes.”
“Your money?”
“Yes.”
Marco leaned forward.
“Then what will Lucy have?”
Sylvio answered immediately.
“A chance not to inherit this.”
Marco went silent.
Sylvio looked down at his hands.
“All these years, I thought I was building something my family could keep.”
His voice softened.
“I was building something that ate everyone who touched it.”
Gabriel.
Isabella.
Tony.
Marco.
Vincent.
Now Lucy.
“No more.”
Marco’s eyes filled with tears.
“You know what your father’s last words were?”
Sylvio looked up.
Marco had never told him.
“He said, ‘Tell my children I tried.’”
Sylvio closed his eyes.
For thirty-one years he had misunderstood his father’s death.
Now he finally understood his life.
A noise came from the restaurant entrance.
Lucy walked in holding Detective Hale’s hand.
Sylvio stood.
“What happened?”
Hale’s expression was grim.
“Vincent contacted us.”
Sylvio’s heart tightened.
“What does he want?”
“You.”
“Obviously.”
“No.”
Hale looked toward Lucy.
“He wants the documents Tony gave you.”
Sylvio frowned.
“The police have copies.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
“Where?”
“He wants an exchange tonight.”
“For what?”
Hale glanced at Lucy, then back at him.
“For the identity of the person who ordered Isabella’s death.”
Sylvio stopped.
Lucy stared up at him.
“My mom wasn’t sick?”
Nobody answered.
Hale spoke carefully.
“Her medical records raise questions.”
Lucy stepped backward.
Sylvio felt fury returning.
The old fury.
The dangerous kind.
Vincent knew exactly what he was doing.
He was offering Sylvio the one secret capable of pulling him back into the world he had just decided to leave.
Sylvio looked down at Lucy.
She was watching him.
Waiting to see which man he would become.
The man who hunted revenge.
Or the uncle who had promised not to leave her.
Sylvio reached for the phone.
May you like
And called Vincent himself.
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