When Her Mob-Connected Neighbor and Unfaithful Husband Force Her into the Servant Quarters, a Self-Made Woman Freezes Their $14 Million Underworld Fortune—Paying a Tragic Price for Revenge.
The news of Geno Castaglione’s full confession ripped through Rosati’s syndicate like a live wire. Julian, sequestered in a luxury hotel suite—paid for by Carmine, who was now barely speaking to him—received the news on a frantic call.
I heard about it from Sarah Lin, who had a source inside the federal building. Julian, facing federal racketeering charges, had completely unraveled.
“He’s trying to blame Carmine,” Sarah reported, her voice hushed over the phone. “Telling anyone who will listen that Rosati strong-armed him, that he was a victim. He’s trying to flip.”
“He’s a coward,” I said, a bitter laugh escaping me. Julian had always been good at deflecting blame.
The revelation of Julian’s betrayal sent shockwaves through the Rosati organization. Carmine’s internal enforcers, the few loyalists he had left, saw Julian’s move as a direct challenge, a sign of weakness that could jeopardize everyone.
Later that evening, an unmarked black car pulled up to the gate of Carmine’s estate. I watched from my small window, hidden by the shadows. Two burly men, known associates of a rival faction, stepped out. Their faces were grim.
“They’re demanding an audience,” Sarah’s source whispered to her. “They want to know if Rosati still has control. Julian’s trying to cut a deal, and it’s making them all nervous.”
The schism was immediate and lethal. I imagined the tense, silent negotiations inside Carmine’s opulent living room, the accusations flying, the threats exchanged. Julian, in his desperation, had ignited a firestorm within the underworld itself.
Meanwhile, I had personally driven Mateo to the Queens safehouse. The apartment was small, sparsely furnished, but secure. He looked pale, but his jaw was set.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here?” I asked, my hand resting on his arm.
“It’s better than Brooklyn,” he said, trying to smile. “Just stay safe, Elena. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I promised, though my heart felt heavy. This forced separation, this uncertainty, was a new kind of pain.
“Sarah’s special report airs at 6:00 PM,” I told him, checking my watch. “After that, everything changes. The federal marshals will move.”
“Then I’ll just keep the TV on,” he said, giving me a brave nod.
I hugged him tight, longer than usual. The possibility of danger felt closer than ever. Julian’s frantic attempts to save himself had made Carmine an even more volatile threat. He was losing control, his empire crumbling, and he would seek to silence any remaining loose ends. Mateo, as my brother and my closest confidant, was the most dangerous loose end of all. I had to stay hidden, but the hours until the broadcast felt like an eternity.
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