Chapter 9
The question hung in the bright, airy atmosphere of the science museum like a guillotine blade waiting to drop. The cinematic lighting seemed to sharpen, focusing entirely on the three figures in the center of the hall. The surrounding capos and bodyguards tightened their grips on their concealed weapons, their faces grim, realizing that the Don had just uncovered a plot far more sinister than simple infidelity.
Celeste and Adrian instinctively look at each other.
It was a split-second glance, a frantic, terrified exchange of silent communication. But to a veteran Mafia boss like Rocco, that single glance was a full confession. It was the look of two conspirators realizing their master plan had been completely deciphered.
"You weren't sneaking into a bedroom to sleep together," Rocco deduced aloud, his voice a low, gravelly hum that commanded absolute silence. He began to pace slowly between them. "You were sneaking into my study. You were trying to access the safe."
"Rocco, no, you're paranoid!" Celeste wept, her hands shaking violently as she pressed them against her chest. "There was no safe! We were just talking in the hall!"
"What did you take?" Rocco demanded, stopping and turning his cold, piercing eyes onto Adrian.
Adrian coughed, wiping blood from his shattered jaw. He realized that denying it any longer would only result in a slower, more agonizing death. He decided to try and barter with the information.
"You think you're untouchable, Rocco," Adrian wheezed, a pathetic, bloody smirk attempting to form on his lips. "But the old guard is tired of your rules. You refuse to run narcotics. You refuse to align with the Russians. You're leaving millions on the table, and the capos are getting restless."
"Answer the question, Adrian," Rocco whispered, stepping closer, his imposing frame casting a long shadow over the broken man.
"We didn't take anything," Adrian spat, his American accent slurring. "We were planting something."
A collective gasp echoed from the bodyguards. Planting evidence inside the Don's personal safe was an act of high treason designed to trigger a syndicate-wide coup or a federal indictment.
"What did you plant?" Rocco asked, his tone dead and hollow.
Celeste let out a hysterical sob, burying her face in her hands. "He made me do it! Adrian said if I didn't help him, he would tell you about the affair! He gave me the ledger!"
"A ledger," Rocco repeated softly.
"The master operational ledger from the Valenti crime family," Adrian confessed, a dark, manic desperation in his eyes. "The feds are raiding the Valenti properties tomorrow morning. When they don't find it, they'll rely on an anonymous tip. A tip that says the boss of the Moretti family orchestrated the Valenti murders and took their ledger as a trophy."
Rocco’s jaw locked tight. The sheer, sociopathic brilliance of the plan was staggering. They were going to frame him for a massacre he didn't commit, using his own safe to bury him in federal prison for the rest of his life. With Rocco incarcerated, Adrian would take the throne, and Celeste would remain the wealthy, untouchable queen of the estate.
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"And Mia saw you," Rocco said, the pieces finally clicking together. "She saw you holding the ledger outside my study door."
"She was standing in the dark!" Celeste shrieked. "We didn't know how much she saw! That's why I had to break her glasses! I had to make sure she couldn't identify the book!"
