With everything happening, who wouldn't feel sick?
Dom's already up, papers spread across the kitchen table. He slides a mug of tea toward me as I join him.
"I made it weak. Figured your stomach might still be upset."
The small gesture of consideration always catches me off guard. "Thanks."
We spend the next hour laying out what we know, connecting threads between Rocco's kidnapping, Mrs. Ferraza's murder, and the inconsistencies in official reports. I can't believe I'm sharing FBI information with a mafia don, but here we are.
"Blackwood's involvement is at the center of all this," Dom says, tapping his name in my notes. "He personally managed Ernie as an informant. He was the one who told you not to file a report on Rocco. He's been pushing you to go after me specifically."
It didn’t take much pushing since I’d thought a Vitale had been involved in my father’s death.
"What's his endgame? Taking down La Corona? Victor's ambitious, but he's always been calculated. This..." I gesture at our evidence board, "this is reckless. He's risking his career, his freedom. Why?"
"Because he’s an asshole?" Dom suggests.
I roll my eyes. "There's something more personal driving him. The way he talks about La Corona, it's like he has a vendetta."
"Has he lost someone to mob violence?"
"Not that I know of. His file shows a clean background, prestigious schools, fast-tracked career." I rub my temples, fighting another wave of queasiness. "But something doesn't addup. The Victor Blackwood I know wouldn't jeopardize everything unless he had a compelling reason."
Dom reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. "We'll figure it out."
"And then what?" I ask the question that's been haunting me. "If we prove Blackwood is corrupt, what happens next? Your family will want revenge."
"Justice," Dom corrects. "We want justice."
"There's a difference between justice and vengeance, Dom."
His eyes hold mine. "Sometimes the line blurs when the system fails."
I don't have an answer for that. Because deep down, I'm starting to understand his perspective.
If Blackwood has been manipulating events, causing deaths, kidnapping children, then what does justice even look like?
"There's something else," I say, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "I spoke with Agent Thompson before my attack. He mentioned money seized from a Monti raid has gone missing. He said other agents have also indicated missing money or forfeitures…all La Corona families."
Dom's expression shifts from curious to intense. “That sounds like motive to me. Does Blackwood know you know?”
"Thompson and I talked to him about it, along with questions about the transpo logs."
“What was his response?"
I shrug. “He said he’d look into it and whether we needed to get OPR—Office of Professional Responsibility—involved.”
Dom smirks. “I’m not surprised. What else would he say? ‘Oh, that was me helping myself evidence and kidnapping children.’”
I meet his eyes. "That night, I was attacked."
Dom leans forward, his face dark and fierce. “I’ll kill—” He catches himself.
I arch a brow.
"The timing can't be coincidental," he says. "You report concerns in the morning, and that evening you are attacked? Blackwood's getting sloppy. He's worried you're connecting dots."
I wrap my hands around my mug of tea. "I just can't believe he'd risk everything like this. His career, his reputation... for what? Money?"
