Chapter 4 - The File on Clara
At 6:00 AM, the sun was just beginning to rise over the East River, casting a gray light through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Leo’s fortified penthouse in Brooklyn.
Tommy Rossi was pacing across the room, a cup of espresso shaking in his hand. "Leo, I swear to God, I was losing my mind all night! Did she ask about the docks? Did she ask about the Calabrese crew? Is she a fed?"
"She's a socialite, Tommy. She cares about Pilates and tax write-offs," Leo said, not looking up from a thick manila folder Marcus had just laid on his desk. "She's harmless. You can go out with her again if you want to lose your mind from boredom."
Tommy let out a massive sigh of relief, sinking into a leather armchair. "Thank the saints. But... what's that folder?"
"My own business," Leo said, his fingers turning the first page of Clara Vance’s file.
As his eyes scanned the text, the headache behind his right eye suddenly returned with a vengeance.
Clara Vance wasn't just a cleaning lady. Three years ago, she had been a top architectural archivist for the city of New York. Her father, an honest city inspector, had uncovered a massive corruption ring involving the Moretti crime family—specifically regarding faulty concrete used in high-rise residential buildings.
Before her father could take the evidence to the federal authorities, his car had exploded in a parking garage.
Clara had survived the attack, but her hands had been severely burned when she tried to pull her father from the flaming wreckage—hence the hook-shaped scar on her thumb. Since that night, the Morettis had systematically destroyed her life. They had frozen her family's assets, blacklisted her from every professional firm in the state, and forced her into the shadows of the city's service industry just to keep her from talking.
Leo’s fist clenched on the desk, the paper wrinkling under his grip.
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The Morettis were his bitterest rivals. They were a family built on the backs of cowards, men who murdered honest city workers and hunted down grieving daughters.
"Marcus," Leo called out, his voice sending a chill through the room. "Where is Clara working tonight?"
