Chapter 5 - BLOOD AT THE TABLE
Carmine summoned the Bellucci family that evening.
Not everyone.
Only the people whose names mattered when rooms became dangerous.
His uncle Salvatore Bellucci.
Two older cousins.
Three captains.
Anthony.
Helena.
No wives.
No children.
Leo remained upstairs under guard.
The dining room table was long enough to seat twenty-four.
Only nine chairs were occupied.
That made every empty seat feel deliberate.
Carmine stood at the head.
Helena’s usual chair had been removed.
She remained standing.
Her luxury car key sat in the center of the table.
Cleaned.
Dried.
Useless.
Beside it rested Rosalie’s necklace and Vittorio’s black wolf.
Carmine looked at every face.
“Someone entered my house today.”
No one moved.
“Someone reached my son’s bedroom.”
One of the captains cursed under his breath.
Carmine heard.
“Does that surprise you, Carlo?”
“Yes.”
“It should.”
He looked toward Anthony.
“Every guard who worked today is confined to the west quarters until I know who opened a path.”
Anthony nodded.
Helena laughed softly.
Everyone looked at her.
Carmine did not.
“What’s funny?”
“You.”
He turned.
“Explain.”
“You still think this is security.”
“What is it?”
“History.”
Carmine stared at her.
His uncle Salvatore shifted in his chair.
He was sixty-eight, his father’s younger brother, one of the last men alive who remembered the Bellucci family before Carmine led it.
“Enough riddles,” Salvatore said.
Helena looked at him.
“You should be the last man asking for fewer riddles.”
Carmine noticed.
“So should I ask him?”
Helena smiled.
Salvatore’s expression remained flat.
Carmine picked up the black wolf.
“Vittorio is alive.”
The room changed.
Not everyone reacted equally.
That mattered.
Carlo whispered something.
One cousin crossed himself.
Salvatore simply looked at the wolf.
Carmine saw it.
“You’re not surprised.”
His uncle looked up.
“At my age, very little surprises me.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I heard rumors.”
“When?”
“Over the years.”
“And never told me?”
“Rumors of dead men are common in our world.”
Helena laughed again.
Salvatore turned toward her.
“You find this entertaining?”
“I find cowards entertaining.”
His expression hardened.
Helena continued.
“You knew he survived.”
Silence.
Carmine looked at his uncle.
“Is that true?”
Salvatore’s jaw moved once.
“Your father believed Vittorio escaped the quarry.”
Carmine stared.
“You told me he was dead.”
“We believed he would die.”
“That is different.”
“Yes.”
“Why hide it?”
“Giancarlo’s order.”
“My father died eleven years ago.”
“And some orders outlive men.”
Carmine slowly sat.
For years he had thought power meant giving orders that survived the room.
Now he saw the uglier version.
Dead men could continue controlling families through the secrets everyone was too loyal to question.
“Why did my father want everyone to believe Vittorio died?”
Salvatore looked toward Helena.
“Because if people knew he escaped, they would ask who helped him.”
“Who?”
Salvatore said nothing.
Carmine leaned back.
“You?”
“No.”
“Anthony?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Salvatore looked at the men around the table.
“I never knew.”
Helena spoke.
“Liar.”
Carmine raised one finger.
She stopped.
Not out of respect.
Out of calculation.
Carmine turned toward his captains.
“From this moment, Helena has no authority in this house.”
One man glanced toward her.
Carmine saw it.
“Something to say?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He looked back at Helena.
“No staff answers to you. No guard follows your instructions. No Bellucci property leaves with you. No guest enters because you invite them.”
Helena’s face remained cold.
“You’re taking my name too?”
“I don’t own your name.”
“Your father thought he did.”
“I am not my father.”
“Not yet.”
Carmine’s eyes hardened.
She smiled.
“There he is.”
The remark almost worked.
That was the point.
Helena wanted him angry.
Vittorio wanted him angry.
Everyone knew Carmine’s simplest weapon.
Rage.
Carmine looked down at the key fob.
Then pushed it across the table toward Helena.
Her expression changed.
“You want the car?”
She did not touch it.
“Take it.”
“What?”
“Go.”
Anthony looked at Carmine.
Helena stared.
Carmine continued.
“Drive wherever you think you’re supposed to go.”
Now she understood.
“So you can follow me.”
“Yes.”
“You think I’m stupid?”
“No.”
Carmine smiled faintly.
“I think whoever is using you thinks you’re disposable.”
The word struck.
Helena hid it quickly.
Not quickly enough.
Carmine leaned forward.
“He put Rosalie’s necklace in your car. He let my son find the latch. He sent a message into my house.”
“He’s not using me.”
“Then call him.”
Silence.
“Tell Vittorio I want to speak.”
“He won’t.”
“Why?”
Helena looked away.
“Because he doesn’t want you yet.”
Carmine’s voice lowered.
“What does he want?”
She did not answer.
A noise came from the corridor.
One of the guards entered quickly.
“Boss.”
Carmine looked at him.
“We found the man who entered Leo’s room.”
Every face turned.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
The guard hesitated.
“Estate staff.”
“Name.”
“Thomas Reed.”
Nora’s assistant.
Thirty-two.
Worked for the Belluccis six years.
Carmine knew his face.
Not his life.
“Bring him.”
Thomas entered between two guards.
His lip was bleeding.
He looked terrified.
Carmine placed the wolf on the table.
“You left this.”
Thomas nodded.
“Who gave it to you?”
“I can’t say.”
Carmine stood.
Thomas immediately started shaking.
“My family.”
Carmine stopped.
“What about them?”
“He knows where they live.”
“Who?”
Thomas looked toward Helena.
Then toward Salvatore.
Then finally at Carmine.
“The man with Rosalie.”
Carmine’s breathing changed.
“What did you say?”
Thomas swallowed.
“He showed me a picture yesterday.”
“Of what?”
“Your wife.”
The room went silent.
“Recent?”
Thomas nodded.
Carmine moved around the table.
“When?”
“Newspaper in the picture. Three days old.”
Carmine reached him.
“Alive?”
May you like
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
