Chapter 4 - The Father Who Never DiedKhloe stood beside Danny's hospital bed at 4:16 in the morning.
Machines surrounded him.
A tube delivered oxygen beneath his nose.
Bandages covered his shoulder and upper chest.
He looked younger while unconscious.
Not innocent.
But younger.
Khloe remembered him at sixteen, stealing cereal from the cafeteria because their mother couldn't afford groceries.
At eighteen, working construction all summer so Khloe could attend a school trip.
At twenty-three, holding their mother's hand through chemotherapy.
Then the gambling started.
And every good memory became harder to reach.
Dominic waited near the door.
Khloe looked at him.
“My father died when I was twelve.”
“According to whom?”
“My mother.”
“Did you see a body?”
She shook her head.
“There was an accident.”
“What kind?”
“Construction site.”
“Where?”
“South Side.”
“Company?”
“I don't remember.”
Dominic did.
Not specifically.
But he remembered dozens of supposedly accidental deaths in Chicago's construction world during those years.
Contracts had been wars fought with concrete instead of bullets.
Khloe reached into her pocket.
Her fingers found the old photograph she carried everywhere.
She unfolded it.
Four people stood beside Lake Michigan.
Her mother, Marianne.
Danny at sixteen.
Khloe at eleven.
And Patrick Hayes.
Broad shoulders.
Red hair.
A crooked grin.
Dominic stepped closer.
Then stopped.
He knew that face.
Khloe noticed.
“What?”
Dominic took the photograph.
“Where was this taken?”
“Navy Pier.”
“When?”
“About a year before he died.”
Dominic stared at Patrick Hayes.
Fourteen years earlier, Dominic had been twenty-six.
His father had already been dead.
Dominic had been consolidating the Russo businesses while trying to determine who could be trusted.
One man had occasionally driven trucks for the organization.
Not a soldier.
Not a made man.
A mechanic.
Patrick Hayes.
Dominic looked at Khloe.
“Your father worked for my family.”
Her expression went blank.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“He worked construction.”
“He may have done both.”
“You knew him?”
“Not well.”
“Was he a criminal?”
Dominic did not insult her with a lie.
“He transported vehicles for us several times.”
Khloe stepped back.
“My mother never said that.”
“She may not have known.”
A weak voice came from the bed.
“She knew.”
Khloe spun.
Danny's eyes were barely open.
“Danny?”
She grabbed his hand.
Dominic approached.
Danny looked at him.
“You figured it out.”
Khloe bent closer.
“Dad is alive?”
Danny shut his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“For fourteen years?”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
Danny didn't answer.
Khloe's voice rose.
“Where is he?”
“Clo…”
“WHERE?”
The heart monitor accelerated.
A nurse entered immediately.
“You need to keep him calm.”
Khloe laughed once in disbelief.
“Keep him calm?”
Dominic touched her shoulder lightly.
“Let him breathe.”
She turned on him.
“He let me believe my father was dead for fourteen years.”
Danny whispered, “I found out three months ago.”
Khloe looked back.
“What?”
“He contacted me.”
“Why you?”
“Because he needed something.”
The answer seemed to hurt more than if Danny had said their father missed them.
“What?”
Danny swallowed.
“The ledger.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“What did Patrick know about it?”
“Everything.”
Danny's eyes moved between them.
“Dad worked collections for Bellini.”
Khloe shook her head.
“No.”
“He did after he disappeared.”
“No.”
“He said he didn't have a choice.”
Khloe pulled her hand away.
“Everybody in this family apparently never has a choice.”
Danny flinched.
She regretted it instantly but couldn't take it back.
Dominic asked, “Why fake his death?”
Danny's voice weakened.
“He witnessed something.”
“What?”
“A meeting.”
“Between?”
Danny looked at Dominic.
“Your uncle Salvatore Russo and Carlo Bellini.”
Dominic's body went still.
Salvatore had raised him after his father's murder.
He had taught Dominic business.
Loyalty.
How to read people.
He had died seven years ago from a heart attack.
“What meeting?”
Danny whispered, “The night your father was killed.”
Silence filled the room.
Dominic stepped closer to the bed.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
Danny stared at him.
“Dad said Salvatore didn't order the hit.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Then what did he see?”
“He saw who paid for it.”
“Who?”
Danny closed his eyes.
The monitor beeped steadily.
“Vincent's father.”
Dominic felt the floor shift beneath him.
Vincent Russo's father, Antonio, had supposedly died loyal to Dominic's father.
Antonio's death in prison had become family mythology.
A sacrifice.
A man who refused to cooperate with prosecutors.
Danny continued.
“Dad overheard Antonio paying Bellini shooters.”
Khloe whispered, “Why?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic did.
Power.
His father, Matteo Russo, had been preparing to reduce Antonio's influence.
Antonio had run gambling.
Matteo wanted out.
Antonio would have lost millions.
Dominic looked toward the window.
For twenty years, he'd believed his father was murdered by rivals because power always attracted violence.
Maybe the murderer had been sitting at Sunday dinner.
Danny breathed painfully.
“Dad told Salvatore what he heard.”
“What did Salvatore do?”
“Got him out.”
“Faked his death.”
Danny nodded.
“Moved him to Milwaukee under another name.”
Khloe stared at her brother.
“And he just stayed gone?”
Danny's eyes filled.
“He said Bellini threatened Mom.”
Khloe laughed bitterly.
“So he protected us by letting Mom die believing her husband was dead?”
“He knew she had cancer.”
“What?”
“He knew.”
That broke something inside her.
Khloe turned away.
“He knew she was dying?”
Danny began crying silently.
“He came to the hospital once.”
Khloe spun.
“What?”
“Last year. At night.”
“You saw him?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I didn't know it was him at first.”
“When did you know?”
“After.”
“How long after?”
Danny couldn't answer.
Khloe pressed both hands over her mouth.
She remembered the last three weeks of her mother's life.
Marianne had kept asking whether the hallway door was closed.
She had once whispered Patrick's name during the night.
Khloe had thought it was medication.
Maybe her mother knew.
Maybe she'd seen him.
Maybe fourteen years of grief had contained secrets Khloe would never completely understand.
Dominic's phone buzzed.
Leo.
He answered.
“We found Vincent.”
“Where?”
“At his house.”
“Bring him to the River North office.”
“Alive?”
Dominic looked at Khloe.
“Yes.”
Leo paused.
“Dom.”
“What?”
“Vincent says he wants to talk.”
“So let him.”
“He says he won't talk to anyone except Khloe Hayes.”
Khloe looked up.
Dominic's eyes met hers.
“Why?”
Leo's answer came quietly.
“Because he says Danny planted the wrong bomb.”
Dominic frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“He says the real device isn't at the car wash.”
Khloe's skin went cold.
Leo continued.
“And according to Vincent, it was never meant for you.”
Dominic's voice dropped.
“Who was it meant for?”
May you like
Leo hesitated.
“Khloe.”
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