Don Bowed To Me Chapter 30
When Vincenzo was led out of the main hall.
Don Salvatore said only one thing.
“Thirty days to leave the East Coast.”
“After thirty days, if you’re still in America.”
He paused for a second.
“I will no longer grant you the family name.”
Vincenzo didn’t resist.
He only looked back at me once.
For the first time, that glance held something.
Not hatred. Surrender.
Sebastian arranged for me to stay in the guest room on the second floor of the Marchetti estate.
I didn’t sleep.
At four in the morning, Emma’s log synchronization completed.
I began sorting through it.
An hour later.
I found three critical points.
First.
The dispatch system for Marchetti Defense’s transport operations had recorded an unauthorized access one week prior.
The access originated from Vincenzo’s private terminal.
Second.
That access had downloaded a complete transport schedule—vehicle, time, and route.
Third.
At the same time, an encrypted data transfer appeared between Vincenzo’s private account and Ezio Rizzo.
The file size and transmission duration matched the transport schedule almost exactly.
But that wasn’t the most important thing.
I pulled up corporate registration records for Rizzo-linked companies along the Newport coastline over the past five years.
Seventeen companies.
Three of them had registered addresses that overlapped directly with three parcels of land Marchetti Defense planned to acquire within the next year.
I stared at the screen.
The transport vehicle was only the first move.
The prototype device was just bait.
What the Rizzos really wanted was to make the Marchetti family tear itself apart.
I checked the time.
Seven-thirty. I went downstairs.
Sebastian was already sitting in the dining room.
He pushed a cup of espresso toward me.
“You didn’t sleep.”
“No.”
I placed the documents in front of him.
He read through them and looked up.
His eyes had gone cold.
“Rizzo.”
“Mm.”
I said:
“The family meeting at ten this morning—we can’t just deal with Vincenzo.”
“We need to complete the acquisition of those three companies within forty-eight hours.”
Sebastian frowned.
“With what money?”
“Marchetti Defense’s legitimate commercial funds.”
“Every transaction reviewed by legal and finance.”
“Public. Clean.”
“So the Rizzos can’t find a single angle to attack us.”
Sebastian looked at me.
“You want to buy their land out from under them.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I want them to understand one thing.”
I looked at him.
“They stole a piece of scrap metal.”
“We take their entire chessboard in Newport.”
Sebastian looked at me for a long time.
Then he smiled.
“Hazel Vitale.”
“You know something?”
“You’re the one who’s truly a Marchetti.”