Chapter 112 Fiorella
The sun had not yet risen above the horizon when I stood facing the grand staircase of the De Luca mansion, my coat draped carelessly around my shoulders and exhaustion etched deep beneath my eyes.
Rocco had left early to meet with Rafael and Riccardo to talk about the attack. He'd kissed my cheeks before leaving, his voice rough yet soft as he told me to rest. But I couldn’t rest, not when the whole world appeared to be crashing down. I needed to get up and move and do something, anything. So, I thought I'd go back to my own manor to switch clothes, maybe pick up some essentials. The De Luca estate seemed more stifling than ever this morning, and though Rocco didn't want me to go, I didn't feel like wasting away here.
The ride home was quiet. Leo had sent Giallo, my bodyguard to drive me and he was more tense than usual. The roads were empty, the city quiet under the light. My mind wandered, to Rocco, to Rosalia, to the storm that still churned around us like an ugly cloud.
By the time we reached my mansion entrance, I took a deep breath.
I walked into my room and the faint aroma of vanilla and sandalwood, still lingered in the air. Everything was just as I had left it: my silk dress draped over the couch, the half-empty wineglass sitting on the marble top.
I was about to grab a suitcase when a familiar voice yelled out down the hallway.
"Signorina Fiorella."
I turned around. Leo stood there, his face set and serious. His well-tailored suit was slightly disheveled, his tie loosened, a sign that everything was not okay.
"Leo?" I asked, putting down my bag. "What's wrong? You look like you have not slept."
He hesitated, glancing fleetingly in the direction of the windows before taking a few strides nearer. "There's been… an issue," he said quietly. "With the shipment that came in last night.".
My brow furrowed. "What kind of problem?"
"The cargo failed to arrive at the warehouse," he replied, his voice low but steady. "Our people found the trucks at the port this morning. No drivers, no guards. The containers were gone."
My heart was pounding. That shipment was worth millions, top-end arms purchased on a deal we had with the De Lucas . It wasn't going to vanish on its own.
"Do we have an ID on who took it?" I asked, keeping cool.
He nodded. "We sent people to search for them. Nothing. No forced entry recorded at the port, no reported battles. It seems that someone moved them before they were inserted into our records."
My hands went cold. For a second I could picture it: empty boxes in a dark room, men in neutral clothing moving away like it was nothing. It was planned.
"Who told you?" I asked.
"One of Toni's men. He was at the docks this morning early with the manifest." Leo paused. "We think someone had the specific time."
The thought that someone possessed this sort of information made the skin on the back of my arms prickle. "An inside job?" I asked.
He did not answer directly. Instead he gave me his phone, he slid it across the back of his hand and turned it so I could read the group messages , timestamps, six messages , a screenshot of the manifest, a blurry photo of the empty truck lane. He was talking softly. "We've had an informant on the docks who has been chatting with different people. He mentions an intermediary. There is one name that comes up constantly; it's a broker." He arranges transfers, ships around deliveries for those who don't want a paper trail.
"A broker," I repeated. The word was cheap and effective at the same time. "Can we track them down?"
“Not in the official manner," Leo answered. "They don't deal in names. They deal in cash. They deal in shortcuts. But we have a thread: the men who were to receive the recipients of that load were told that the loads would be shipped to some new temporary spot. No one told the drivers. The phone lines that were used to set it up were burner numbers. Whoever set it up thought out every step."
“Does Rocco know about it?” I asked. I wanted him to hear it from me. I wanted him there. I wanted to be standing beside him when we find out who did this.
No," Leo replied softly. "He doesn’t know yet but their contact might have told them.”
My throat tightened. Gosh, I left early failing to tell him I’ll be leaving though I sent a text. If he finds out before I tell him, it’s going to be suspicious.
"Did anyone notice anyone suspicious?" I asked. The calm in his eyes told me nothing.
"Steven, gray-haired fellow," he said. "He mentioned someone from the family had been asking about timetables for weeks. Not a guard, not the normal contacts, someone who knew exactly when shipments arrived." He swallowed. "He spoke of Phillipe."
The name dropped like a stone thrown into a glass of water. Phillipe: the same uncle who had come into the study with a proposal to sell me off like a merger, who had grinned as if he'd already bought the future. A slow, slow anger burned in my heart that had nothing to do with terror and absolutely everything to do with betrayal.
"Leo," I inquired warily, "what exactly did he say?"
"Evasive at first," Leo said. "Told him he heard Phillipe speaking with another guy at a café near the docks. Told him Phillipe was pressuring the suppliers , requesting favored routes and 'private handling.' Figured it was business. Steven said he noticed the routes changing. New forms one week, different drivers. Didn't make the connection until the trucks were found."
“This is… Phillipe?” The name tasted like rust in my mouth.
Leo’s mouth thinned. “I’m not accusing anyone. But Steven is not the only one who noticed a change. A ledger surfaced, that the dock manager found in a dumpster. It has payments routed through a company Phillipe has ties to.”
I was breathing more quickly. The ledger wasn't proof; ledgers were simple to fake. But the pattern was a map. Someone had stolen our merchandise; someone who possessed money and a willingness to get dirty.
"Why would he do that?" I asked although the answer was loud and clear.
Leo shrugged, a shadow of fatigue in the motion. "Maybe he's betting on the De Luca alliance breaking up. Maybe he's paying back a debt the way men with nothing to lose do. Or maybe he's dealing with men bigger than himself. Either one, Signorina, he is either extremely stupid or he’s just being the crazy man that he is.”
Every option had tasted bitter. I was overwhelmed by the smallness of it all in a world that revolved on men's bargains and their betrayals. The image of my uncle slumped in some coffee shop, fingers drumming a tabletop, smiling and directing a ring of men who drained trucks at night left bile seething hot in my throat.
“What should we do?" I asked, though half of me already knew: we would act like wolves. We would bite back at whatever bit us.
“We'll talk to Rafael," Leo said. "I'll bring in Steven. We'll take CCTV from all the cameras from here to port. We'll trace the burners. We'll audit Phillipe's accounts, off the books." He steepled his fingers, the careful planning wrapping itself around him like armor. "If he's in it, we'll make him pay. If he's not, well…We still get the broker.".
My fingers spread across the handle of my suitcase, though my knuckles were white. There was a lot to deal with.
"Get it all back to me," I told Leo. "I want to see the ledger."
He nodded, a temporary flash of relief cutting across his face. "Be back in twenty."
I went into my closet and began packing some change of clothes and essentials.
As I folded them, I was like a woman getting ready for war, and not for fun.
The phone on the dresser beeped; a name had flashed on the screen. A message. A burner number. I slid it open.
Thought I'd give you a little engagement surprise.
No signature.
My hands did not shake in the way I expected. I had pictured Rocco's eyes the night before, the way he'd wrapped his arms around me and promised vengeance.
I folded the shirt up and put it away, stuffed it in my bag and zipping it.
As I set out again, the driveway was a line of light and shadow. Leo stood there with his jaw clenched.
"Let's go," I told him.
Leo fell into step next to me, and we proceeded toward the car with determination. My phone buzzed again in my palm, and for a moment I considered ignoring it.
Then I saw what was on the screen and paused.
I'm going to take everything that’s mine little niece.