Chapter 12 - THE RESTAURANT WAS THE TRAP
Richard had not taken my mother out of Manhattan.
That was my first instinct.
Gabriel agreed.
“He doesn’t have the nerve.”
“Then Vittorio does.”
Luca, bruised but alive, studied the surveillance images.
“Richard is loyal to money. He wouldn’t risk kidnapping unless Vittorio promised him something.”
Angelo opened the ledger.
“Ilvento.”
I turned.
“What?”
“The restaurant.”
Salvatore looked up.
Angelo continued.
“Vittorio used the basement decades ago before it became a restaurant.”
Gabriel immediately called federal investigators.
We arrived after midnight.
Ilvento looked completely different without customers.
No candlelight.
No wine.
No people pretending they were too wealthy to be impressed by the menu.
Just empty tables.
My tables.
Gabriel’s Thursday booth.
The place where all of this had begun.
Agents entered through the front and kitchen.
The basement door was locked.
I remembered Richard always kept one brass key on a chain beneath his shirt.
Luca found a spare in the office safe.
We descended.
My mother was there.
Alive.
Richard stood beside her.
Vittorio stood behind him.
He looked older than Salvatore.
Smaller than I expected.
Evil rarely looked the way stories promised.
“Tessa,” he said calmly.
Gabriel stepped in front of me.
“Move away from her mother.”
Vittorio smiled.
“You always did inherit Salvatore’s need to play hero.”
Federal agents surrounded the exits.
Richard panicked first.
He dropped his weapon.
Vittorio did not.
He held a pistol toward my mother.
My entire body went cold.
“You want the ledger?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“To know who has copies.”
“Everyone.”
His smile disappeared.
“That was stupid.”
“No. It was insurance.”
Vittorio looked at Gabriel.
“You taught her that?”
I answered.
“Mr. Cosenza did.”
Angelo stepped into view.
For the first time, Vittorio looked afraid.
“You should be dead.”
Angelo smiled sadly.
“You always relied too much on other people doing your killing.”
Vittorio’s attention shifted for half a second.
That was enough.
My mother moved.
Just slightly.
Gabriel’s security man knocked the weapon aside.
Agents rushed forward.
Vittorio hit the floor.
Richard began shouting that he wanted a lawyer.
I ran to Mom.
She was trembling but conscious.
I held her.
“You’re okay.”
Her hand rose slowly toward my face.
Then she whispered something.
“Restaurant.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She struggled.
“Mine.”
I frowned.
“What?”
Angelo heard her.
His expression changed.
“Anna?”
My mother looked at him.
Then repeated:
“Restaurant… mine.”
Angelo closed his eyes.
“Oh, God.”
Gabriel turned.
“What does she mean?”
Angelo looked around Ilvento.
“When Anna discovered Vittorio’s theft, she didn’t only copy his accounts.”
He looked directly at me.
“She bought something with the money Salvatore gave her.”
My mother had secretly purchased a stake in Ilvento before her accident.
Not five percent.
Not ten.
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According to Angelo:
She owned half the restaurant.
