Chapter 13 - The Betrayal Within
The fallout from the Greenwich gala was swift and brutal.
Within forty-eight hours of Vincent Rossi’s extraction, the Bridgeport faction of the syndicate was completely dismantled. The captains loyal to Rossi were rounded up, interrogated, and either absorbed into Caleb’s loyal inner circle or shipped off to join Rossi in permanent exile.
Back at Blackwell House, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
I sat at my desk in the third-floor anteroom, reviewing the logistics reports for the newly acquired Bridgeport shipping terminals, when the private elevator chimed.
Marcus stepped out, looking grim. He wasn't carrying a clipboard; he was carrying a heavy leather briefcase.
“Marisol,” Marcus said, nodding grimly as he approached my desk. “Is the boss in?”
“He’s on a conference call with the Montreal port authorities,” I said, standing up. “What’s in the briefcase, Marcus?”
“Evidence,” Marcus said quietly. “We found it in Rossi’s safe in Bridgeport after the raid.”
Before I could ask what kind of evidence, the double doors of Caleb’s office swung open. Caleb stood in the doorway, his phone pressed to his ear, listening to the Montreal port director drone on about customs clearance.
Caleb caught sight of Marcus and me. He abruptly hung up the phone without saying goodbye, tossing it onto his desk.
“Marcus,” Caleb said sharply. “You found something?”
“Yeah, Boss,” Marcus said, stepping past me into the office and laying the leather briefcase flat on the mahogany desk. He popped the brass latches and opened the lid.
Inside were stacks of financial printouts, encrypted flash drives, and a series of high-resolution photographs.
Caleb picked up the top photograph. His face darkened into a storm so intense I thought the glass windows might shatter.
“What is this?” Caleb asked, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper.
“It’s a ledger of payouts from a shell company in Zurich,” Marcus explained, pointing to the documents. “Rossi wasn't just skimming from the Bridgeport docks. He was selling our property acquisition blueprints to a third party. Someone who wanted to undercut our bids on the municipal real-estate contracts.”
“Who?” Caleb demanded.
Marcus hesitated. He looked at Caleb, then cast a brief, cautious glance in my direction.
“Go ahead, Marcus,” Caleb ordered coldly. “Say it.”
“It wasn't just Rossi, Boss,” Marcus said softly. “Rossi was just the delivery boy. The person funding the leaks, providing the internal access codes, and setting up the Zurich shell companies... was someone inside Blackwell House.”
My breath hitched. “Inside the house?”
Marcus reached into the briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope, sliding it across the desk toward Caleb.
“We pulled the keycard logs for the third-floor private archive,” Marcus said. “Only four people have master clearance to access the physical blueprints: You, me, Vance... and your chief of staff.”
The air in the office vanished.
May you like
My heart stopped beating. Every pair of eyes in the room—Marcus’s hard, suspicious gaze, and Caleb’s terrifying, stormy stare—locked onto me.
“Me?” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You think I leaked blueprints to a mob rival?”
