Chapter 9
The Castellano Neighborhood Fund had been created after Rocco’s older brother died.
It paid emergency grants to local small businesses, school programs, food drives, and temporary rent assistance.
Rocco did not manage it personally.
A committee did.
Dominic chaired that committee as club manager.
The books said the money had been distributed properly.
The recipients said otherwise.
Some had received far less than reported.
Others had never applied.
One supposed grant recipient had closed three years earlier.
Grace laid the numbers across the conference table.
“About $1.2 million is unsupported.”
Rocco’s jaw tightened.
“Stolen?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Where did it go?”
“We’re tracing it.”
Dominic’s attorney stopped cooperating.
That was answer enough for Rocco to keep going.
The forensic team recovered portions of the deleted emails.
One concerned Vance Bakery.
Dominic wrote:
No relief approval while acquisition remains open. Pressure works only if pressure stays consistent.
No recipient name survived in the recovered fragment.
Another concerned D’Angelo Meats:
Vendor termination created the expected liquidity issue. Do not reverse.
A third:
Community fund cannot keep subsidizing businesses we need cleared.
Three clues became something darker.
The local suppliers had not merely been removed because Dominic disliked them.
Their financial weakness had been useful.
Rocco asked Grace whether North Harbor had applied for club redevelopment cooperation.
“Yes.”
“What would the club receive?”
“Parking rights, revenue share, equity participation.”
“And Dominic?”
“We still don’t know.”
That was the missing piece.
Dominic could believe sincerely that redevelopment was good for the club.
He could also be committing fraud.
Those two truths could exist together.
The night before the forensic team planned to present ownership records for North Harbor, Dominic appeared at Rocco’s home.
Alone.
No attorney.
“You need to stop.”
Rocco did not invite him farther than the foyer.
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to destroy everything.”
“What everything?”
“The deal.”
“The club?”
“The family.”
Rocco studied him.
Dominic looked exhausted.
For the first time since the lobby incident, he did not look arrogant.
He looked scared.
“Tell me now.”
Dominic shook his head.
“If I tell you, you’ll never forgive me.”
Rocco thought of the way his nephew had looked at the shattered brass emblem.
That same fear.
Not fear of losing a job.
Fear of exposure.
May you like
Rocco opened the door.
“Then you should have told me before I had to find it myself.”
