Chapter 2
Rocco brought Maeve into the private dining room.
Not the service corridor.
Not the kitchen.
The dining room.
Several club members watched as a bodyguard pulled out a leather chair for the filthy three-year-old.
Rocco noticed every stare.
He remembered allowing this place to become obsessed with who belonged inside it.
That was going to matter later.
Maeve ate warm bread with butter while Rocco’s controller, Samuel Price, opened the supplier accounts.
Dominic stood near the window without his badge.
His hands remained at his sides.
Too still.
Rocco had known him since birth.
He knew when the boy was afraid.
“Vance Bakery,” Rocco said.
Samuel typed.
Then frowned.
“The system shows every invoice paid.”
“To whom?”
“Vance Bakery LLC.”
Rocco slid Maeve’s invoice across the table.
“They haven't been paid.”
Dominic exhaled.
“This is an accounting error.”
Rocco’s eyes moved toward him.
Dominic immediately stopped.
Samuel opened the electronic transfers.
Money had left the club.
That part was real.
But it had not gone to Vance Bakery’s ordinary bank account.
For eight months, payments had gone to a different account bearing a nearly identical business name.
Vance Bakery Holdings.
Rocco leaned forward.
“Who owns it?”
Samuel hesitated.
“I need corporate records.”
“Get them.”
Dominic finally stepped away from the window.
His voice became firmer.
“Before you start accusing people, Thomas Vance owes this club money.”
Maeve stopped chewing.
Rocco noticed.
“What money?”
“Maintenance fees. Delivery access. Security assessments.”
Rocco’s stare sharpened.
“Security assessments?”
Dominic’s jaw flexed.
“The businesses on this block benefit from us being here.”
“So you charge them?”
“They benefit from protection.”
Rocco’s gaze went cold.
“I never authorized protection fees.”
Dominic laughed once.
It came out brittle.
“You authorized me to run the club.”
Rocco let the silence sit.
Dominic’s breath became more audible.
Then Samuel turned the laptop toward Rocco.
“I found Vance Bakery Holdings.”
Rocco read the ownership.
A company called North Crest Redevelopment held ninety percent.
Samuel opened that company.
Another entity.
Then another.
Finally, the chain ended.
Castellano Urban Partners.
Managing member:
Dominic Castellano.
Maeve did not understand the page.
Rocco did.
Money the club claimed it had paid to her father had been redirected into a company controlled by his nephew.
Dominic lifted his chin.
“It’s not what you think.”
Rocco closed the laptop.
“Then explain why you created a company with the same name as a poor man’s bakery.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“Because the bakery isn't going to be his much longer.”
Maeve’s spoon stopped halfway to her mouth.
Rocco slowly turned toward her.
Then back to Dominic.
“What did you say?”
Dominic did not retreat this time.
He reached inside his jacket and placed a folded document on the table.
“Thomas Vance signed the property over six weeks ago.”
Rocco opened it.
The bakery building.
The equipment.
The commercial lease rights.
All pledged to North Crest Redevelopment.
May you like
At the bottom was Thomas Vance’s signature.
Maeve’s father had apparently signed away the bakery his daughter believed was simply waiting to be paid.
