Chapter 4 - A Daughter’s PromiseSt. Anne’s Medical Center smelled of bleach, rubbing alcohol, and the distinct, sterile despair of people waiting for miracles that cost too much money.
It was 5:45 AM when Dominic Rinaldi’s black town car pulled up to the emergency entrance.
He didn't go inside. He sat in the back seat, watching through tinted glass as Nora hurried up the concrete steps, clutching the brown paper bag containing the ten thousand dollars in cash. Her coat was buttoned crookedly, and her hair was still damp from the rain, but as she pushed through the sliding glass doors, her shoulders were no longer shaking.
For the first time in ten years, Dominic felt something stir behind the stone wall he had built around his heart.
His phone buzzed in his lap. It was Marcus.
“Boss. We searched Pike’s apartment above the garage. Found the rest of the skimmed funds—and a ledger linking Vance directly to three of our construction delays last month. He’s been selling us out wholesale.”
Dominic stared at his reflection in the dark window of the car.
"What about Pike?" Dominic asked into the encrypted line.
“He’s in the trunk of the Lincoln. Waiting for your orders. Do we take him to the quarry?”
Dominic looked toward the lit windows of the third floor where Nora was likely standing beside her mother’s hospital bed, watching the color return to an old woman's face.
"No," Dominic said softly. "Not the quarry."
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“Where then?”
"Bring him to the waterfront warehouse on Pier 12," Dominic ordered, his voice hardening into cold steel. "And call every caporegime in the family. Tell them emergency meeting at sunrise. The Rinaldi family has a ratting problem, and it's time to clean the house."
