Chapter 7
By Friday, Grant’s network began breaking apart.
Not dramatically.
One person at a time.
A driver admitted transporting cash from the tennis club to two restaurants.
A manager admitted Grant had ordered him to provide security to businesses not on Rocco’s approved list.
A former valet remembered seeing Bianca personally receive envelopes.
Every witness had assumed the arrangements were authorized.
None had spoken directly to Rocco.
Michael organized the statements chronologically.
“There’s a pattern.”
Rocco read through the dates.
Every unauthorized meeting happened on nights when he was occupied elsewhere.
Mia’s birthday dinner.
A charity event.
A business trip to Boston.
The anniversary of his first wife’s death.
Bianca knew his schedule better than almost anyone.
That realization hurt differently.
Grant knew his organization.
Bianca knew him.
Together, they could predict when he would not look.
Rocco summoned his senior associates to the club.
Grant was absent.
For the first time in years, Rocco told them something he hated admitting.
“I didn’t authorize these meetings.”
Silence.
One older associate frowned.
“Grant said you did.”
“He lied.”
Another man asked:
“How many deals?”
“We’re finding out.”
Nobody liked that answer.
Neither did Rocco.
He had spent decades presenting certainty as strength.
Now honesty required him to admit uncertainty in front of men who depended on him.
Afterward Michael remained behind.
“There’s one employee missing.”
“Who?”
“A night attendant named Andrew.”
“Where is he?”
“Quit two months ago.”
“Why?”
Michael shook his head.
“No explanation.”
Rocco remembered something from the statements.
The first unexplained SUV appeared two months before Andrew resigned.
“Find him.”
Michael looked uncertain.
“If he doesn’t want to talk?”
Rocco thought of Mia beside the pillar.
“Then we leave him alone.”
May you like
Michael stared at him.
That answer would have been impossible from the old Rocco Bellandi.
