Chapter 6 - THE FUNERAL THAT STARTED EVERYTHING
The next morning, Dominic attended Anthony Russo's memorial.
His younger brother had died ten years earlier in the West Harbor explosion.
Every year, Dominic visited the cemetery.
Every year, he brought white lilies.
Every year, the headaches became worse.
Beatrice accompanied him at his request.
She wore a dark green dress she'd made herself.
The cemetery was quiet.
Rain darkened the stone paths.
Dominic stood before Anthony's grave.
He looked exhausted.
“Anthony hated flowers,” he said.
Beatrice glanced at him.
“Then why bring them?”
Dominic smiled sadly.
“Because our mother loved lilies.”
He placed the bouquet beside the headstone.
Then looked at the inscription.
ANTHONY MICHAEL RUSSO.
BELOVED SON AND BROTHER.
Beatrice stood beside him.
“Were you close?”
Dominic nodded.
“He was the only person who could tell me I was wrong without worrying about consequences.”
She smiled faintly.
“That sounds useful.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You seem to manage it.”
She laughed softly.
For a moment, the cemetery felt less cold.
Then Dominic grew serious.
“The night Anthony died, he called me.”
Beatrice turned.
“What did he say?”
“He told me not to trust Celeste.”
Her heart stopped.
Dominic continued.
“I thought he was jealous.”
“Of your wife?”
“He never liked her.”
“Why?”
Dominic shook his head.
“I didn't ask.”
He looked at the grave.
“Three hours later, the warehouse exploded.”
Beatrice stared.
“Did Anthony work at the harbor?”
“He was investigating missing shipments.”
Her pulse quickened.
“Shipments of what?”
“Medical equipment.”
Silence.
Beatrice remembered the blue ledger.
The laboratory references.
The textile samples.
She looked at Dominic.
“Was my father involved?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Anthony mentioned a scientist.”
“Samuel Whitcomb?”
He nodded.
Beatrice felt the world shift.
Her father had been investigating the harbor.
Anthony had been investigating missing shipments.
Both disappeared from the world within days.
And Dominic's headaches began shortly afterward.
She looked toward the grave.
“What if Anthony didn't die because of a gang war?”
Dominic stared.
“What?”
“What if he found something?”
His expression hardened.
Beatrice continued.
“What if the explosion was meant to destroy evidence?”
Dominic looked at the headstone.
For ten years, he'd blamed the Ferraro family.
He'd fought a war.
Lost friends.
Buried men.
All because he believed his brother had been murdered by rivals.
Now he was beginning to wonder whether he'd been manipulated.
He turned toward Leo.
“Find the original investigation files.”
Leo nodded.
“Boss, those records were sealed.”
“Then find out who sealed them.”
Beatrice looked at Dominic.
“And we need the laboratory reports.”
He nodded.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Then Dominic said quietly:
“You know, when you cut my jacket, I thought you were insane.”
Beatrice smiled.
“You pointed a gun at me.”
“Leo did.”
“You didn't stop him immediately.”
Dominic looked ashamed.
“No.”
He took a breath.
“I'm sorry.”
She studied him.
The apology sounded genuine.
She nodded.
“Accepted.”
Then she looked toward Anthony's grave.
“But we're not finished.”
Dominic followed her gaze.
“No.”
May you like
His voice became cold.
“We're just beginning.”
