Chapter 9 - The Account Settled
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Nicholas stopped two feet away from Hector Vance, pointing his pistol directly at the man’s forehead.
“Nicholas Caruso,” Vance choked out, holding up his hands. “Wait! Listen to me! This is a misunderstanding! I was told Maria was a thief! She stole from my syndicate!”
“She didn't steal from you,” Nicholas said coldly. “She escaped you.”
“You don't understand!” Vance pleaded, sweat dripping down his face. “That kid... Lucy... she isn't just any child! Her father hid something inside her medical records! Information that could bring down every boss on the East Coast!”
Nicholas didn't even blink. “I don't care about your ledgers, Vance.”
“I’ll pay you!” Vance stammered, scrambling backward until his spine hit the marble pillar. “Ten million! Twenty million! Just let me take the girl and leave New York!”
Nicholas stepped forward, placing the polished leather toe of his shoe directly on Vance’s wrist—pressing down until Vance shrieked in agony.
“You put bruises on three-year-old girls, Hector,” Nicholas whispered softly, leaning in close. “In my family, we have a very specific penalty for men like you.”
“Please—” Vance sobbed.
Nicholas didn't waste another word.
Pfft.
The silenced gun clicked once. Vance went limp, collapsing against the pillar.
Silence reclaimed the grand foyer.
Marco stepped forward, kicking Vance’s weapon aside. “What do we do with the bodies, boss?”
“Clean the floor,” Nicholas ordered, wiping his gun with a silk handkerchief. “Put Vance’s body in the trunk of Arthur Hart’s car. Park it outside the Brooklyn docks with a note.”
“What should the note say?” Marco asked.
May you like
Nicholas looked up toward the second floor, where he knew Maria was holding her daughter tight in the dark.
“Tell Arthur Hart that if his daughter ever breathes near my family again, he’ll be sharing a grave with Hector Vance.”
