They had no idea who they were dealing with.
But they were about to learn.
CHAPTER 13: EMILIO
THE APARTMENT FELTtoo big after Sandro left. Too quiet. Too much space for thoughts I didn't want to have.
I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows watching the city move below. People going about their normal lives. Jobs that didn't involve bomb threats or mob bosses or moral compromises that accumulated like debt I'd never be able to repay.
My phone sat on the counter where I'd left it. Seventeen missed calls from my mother. She'd probably seen the news about the bomb scare at Sterling & Associates. The office had been evacuated. Reporters had shown up. It was exactly the kind of publicity Richard hated and exactly the kind of attention that put targets on backs.
I should call her. Reassure her I was safe. Tell her some sanitized version of events that wouldn't send her into a panic.
Instead I opened my laptop and pulled up the case files. Work was safer than thinking. Strategy was easier than processing the fact that I'd just listened to my lover—my client, my mob boss lover—calmly discuss murdering someone and felt nothing but gratitude.
The assault case was straightforward on paper. Matteo DeLuca broke a man's arm. Three original witnesses recanted their statements after being paid off. Three new witnesses appeared with stories that contradicted physical evidence and each other. The prosecution's case relied on those lying witnesses because without them, they had nothing.
I could destroy them in court. I knew it. Sandro knew it. The Costellos knew it, which was why they'd escalated to threats.
But something nagged at me. The assault case felt almost too simple. Like it was a distraction from something bigger. I'd been so focused on the immediate trial prep that I hadn't looked at the broader picture.
I pulled up federal court databases and started searching. Public records only showed so much, but patterns emerged if you knew how to look. Grand jury subpoenas. Witness immunity deals. The kind of paper trail that suggested federal investigators were building something larger than a simple assault prosecution.
My phone rang. Unknown number. I almost didn't answer, but curiosity won.
"Emilio Rossi," I said cautiously.
"It's Roberto Green." The prosecutor's voice was clipped. Professional. "We need to talk. Off the record."
"I don't have off-the-record conversations with opposing counsel."
"You do when I'm trying to save your career." He paused. "This case is bigger than you realize. There are things happening that you're not seeing because Vitale's keeping you in the dark."
I walked away from the windows. Paced toward the kitchen like distance from the view would somehow give me clarity. "What things?"
"Federal investigation. RICO charges. Grand jury testimony from multiple witnesses connecting Inferno to organized crime, money laundering, extortion." His voice dropped. "You're defending someone who's about to be indicted on charges that make this assault case look like jaywalking."
"If you have evidence of RICO violations, charge him. Otherwise this sounds like prosecutorial fishing."
"This is me giving you a professional courtesy. A warning. Get out now before you're so deep you can't extract yourself." Papers rustled on his end. "Your name's already in the file, Emilio. The FBI knows you're representing Vitale. They know about your meetings at his estate. They know he's been paying off your debts."
My blood went cold. "What?"
"Credit card paid off two weeks ago. Speeding ticket from last year mysteriously resolved. Student loan payment that came from a shell corporation traced back to Vitale interests." Roberto's tone was almost sympathetic. "They're building a case that he's compromised you. Bought your loyalty. When the RICO charges come down, they'll use you as evidence of his pattern of corrupting officials."
"I'm not an official. I'm his attorney."
"You're an officer of the court. And you accepted financial benefits from a client under federal investigation. That's textbook corruption in their eyes." He sighed. "I'm not telling you this to threaten you. I'm telling you because you're a good attorney who made a bad choice. You can still walk away. Withdraw from the case. Return whatever money he gave you. Cooperate with the investigation."
"Cooperate how?"
"Testify about your interactions with Vitale. His business practices. What you've seen. What you suspect." Another pause. "They'll give you immunity. Clean slate. You walk away from this without charges."
I leaned against the counter. Processed what he was offering. A way out. Protection from federal prosecution. My career intact instead of destroyed.
All I had to do was betray Sandro.
"No," I said.
