“Our world runs on Omertà,” he said, voice low. “And our Seven rules. We keep quiet. No authorities. We keep loyal. We keep family first. We don’t take money from other families or gangs. Anyone who breaks that…” He shook his head, eyes distant for a second. “To sell us out isn’t just betrayal. It’s blasphemy.”
“I know your code,” I said. “You taught some of it to me yourself.”
“I taught you enough to survive,” he corrected. “And to stay just outside the circle. You always knew where the line was. You never tried to come inside.”
“Smartest thing I ever did,” I said.
He smirked faintly, then it faded.
“You think this ledger is just a test,” he asked. “Someone poking for soft spots?”
“I think it’s more than a test,” I replied. “A book like that doesn’t just leave a safe for fun. I think it’s a map for how to cut you up and serve you in pieces,” I said. “Starting with your docks. Then your unions. Then your casinos. Probably bounces from player to player to sign off on before moving onto the next. Eventually, that playbook stops being a theory and becomes awar plan.”
We both looked through the glass again. Vladimir lifted his glass slightly, like he somehow knew we were talking about him.
“So, my pier as the last mile. Your bikes as delivery boys. What were they thinking?” he mumbled.
“I think someone sold that route as clean and deniable,” I replied. “Your dock, my bikes, no fingerprints on the bill. The Devils just happened to be the variable nobody had planned on. That and those who attacked acted too soon. Had they waited for us to drop the bike and leave, we never would have known any of this. Had one thing happened differently, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. It wouldn’t have become known to us until it was already in full effect.”
Roman sighed. “I wonder if I have dock rats,” he murmured. “Could be supervisors. Could be someone higher. Even a son who thinks he’s entitled. A consigliere who wants to be a king. Or someone outside who got too clever.”
“Could be all of them,” I said.
He took another long drag, then exhaled sharp.
“I won’t be undermined,” he said. “Not by the Vincinos. Not by my own blood. Not by some Russian who forgets who gave him a seat. Anyone who tries to move my family like pieces without my hand on the board will pay for it.”
He said it like a prayer. Or a promise.
We stood there a moment. Smoke andwind and the city humming below.
“I’ll need proof,” he said finally.
“You want proof,” I said. “I can’t show you the full ledger. Not yet. Book’s too hot to pass around like a cocktail menu. I can have pictures sent to you. Pieces,” I went on. “Enough to show you that I’m not just spinning you some story.”
“Where is it now?” he asked.
“Safe,” I replied.
He let that hang for a beat.
“I’m trusting you a great deal here, Alice,” Roman said. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” I returned.
He glanced toward Vladimir, then back.
“You’re not the only one who can play careful,” he said to me, quieter now. “When we go back in, we talk about my docks. About certain routes. About what may be flowing through them in the coming days. But we do it in a way that lets us see who repeats what.”
I understood what he meant immediately.
“We’ll shade it,” I said. “Tilt a couple of details. Change some numbers. Move a supposed shipment from one warehouse to another. Make up a new shell company name.”
“And then we wait,” he said. “If anything happens near that, we know someone in this room passed it along. If nothing happens… we narrow the circle and tilt again.”
I nodded in agreement.
“As for that ledger. We hold it. Carefully. Together.”
