Chapter 10 - The Recording
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Raphael looked at the cheap plastic phone resting in Clara’s trembling, red hand. He didn't ask what it was. He simply took it.
The entire church held its breath.
Raphael flipped the phone open. He looked at the screen, pressed a button, and held it up to the microphone pinned to his lapel, intended for the wedding vows.
The scratchy, unmistakable voice of Judge Moretti boomed through the church speakers.
"...Raphael is a dog who thinks he's a wolf. Six months after the wedding, Vivian secures the ledgers from his private safe in Brookline. I hand them to the feds, they raid the docks, and the Duca empire is dissolved. We take the territory by Christmas."
A second voice, a rival boss sitting in the third pew, laughed on the recording. "And the girl is willing to play wife until then?"
"Vivian hates him," the Judge’s voice sneered through the speakers. "She's doing it for the family. Raphael won't suspect a thing. He's too busy pretending to be a gentleman."
The recording clicked off.
The silence in St. Leonard’s was no longer respectful. It was the silence of a bomb falling through the air, right before impact.
Judge Moretti was gripping the edge of a pew, his face completely drained of blood. Vivian was backing away from the altar, her hands covering her mouth in sheer horror.
The rival boss from the recording tried to stand up, but one of Raphael’s men simply placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down.
Raphael did not look at the judge. He did not look at his bride.
He looked at Clara.
"How long have you had this?" Raphael asked, his voice low, private, meant only for her.
"Five years," Clara whispered, finding her voice. "I stole it from the man who... who hurt my leg. I was too scared to turn it on until last night."
Raphael’s dark eyes searched her face. She was a maid. A woman who limped, who hid her child, who cleaned his floors. She had just risked her life, standing up in a room full of killers, to save him.
"Milo," Raphael called out without turning around.
The towering driver stepped out of the shadows near the baptismal font.
"Take Clara to the car," Raphael ordered. "Lock the doors. Do not let anyone near her."
Milo nodded, stepping forward and gently taking Clara’s arm.
May you like
As she was led out of the church, Clara looked back. Raphael was slowly turning around to face the altar. He unbuttoned his suit jacket.
The doors of St. Leonard’s closed heavily behind her, but even through the thick oak, she heard the screaming begin.
