Chapter 2 - THE NUMBERS HE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO NOTICE
Nobody spoke for seven seconds.
Norah knew because Elliot counted them under his breath.
“One. Two. Three…”
Enzo snapped, “Would you stop doing that?”
Elliot stopped at seven.
Dominic did not take his eyes off him.
“Six point eight million,” he said. “Explain.”
Elliot glanced at the phone.
“I already did.”
“Explain it again.”
This time Elliot hesitated.
Not because he did not know.
Because everyone was looking at him.
Norah recognized the tension in his shoulders from the service hallway. Too much attention could be its own kind of noise.
She shifted slightly so that she stood beside him instead of facing him.
It was a small thing.
Elliot noticed.
His breathing steadied.
“The company pays Venturo Logistics for regional freight consulting,” he said. “Except Venturo does not perform consistent freight consulting. The billing pattern repeats every eleven, thirteen, and seventeen days, then resets.”
Dominic’s brow furrowed.
“You memorized our invoices?”
“No.”
Enzo exhaled sharply, relieved.
Elliot continued.
“I memorized the pattern.”
Relief vanished.
Dominic walked around the desk.
“How did you see them?”
“They are stored on the family server.”
“You’re not authorized for financial folders.”
“The permissions are badly configured.”
Enzo cursed.
Elliot looked at him.
“That is also true.”
Norah stared at him.
This quiet man who had spent dinner aligning silverware had apparently wandered through millions of dollars of financial data because somebody had misconfigured a server.
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Elliot’s answer was immediate.
“You don’t ask me about business.”
That hit.
Dominic’s face changed by one degree.
Enough to matter.
Elliot continued.
“You tell Enzo not to discuss work around me because it agitates me.”
“I said it was not your concern.”
“You said I would not understand.”
Dominic did not answer.
Norah looked at Enzo.
He was sweating.
Not much.
A thin shine near his hairline.
But it was there.
Dominic noticed too.
“Sit down,” he told him.
“I’m fine.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
Enzo sat.
Dominic turned to Norah.
“You should leave.”
Elliot said, “She stays.”
“This is not her business.”
“She is already in the room.”
“That does not make it her business.”
Norah lifted a hand.
“For once, I agree with him.”
Both men looked at her.
“I danced with one Russo. I’m not applying for the family newsletter.”
Elliot frowned.
“You could help.”
“With what?”
He looked at her apron.
Then her hands.
“Your burn scar.”
Norah blinked.
“What about it?”
“Left knuckle. Old. Linear. Kitchen injury.”
“Congratulations, Sherlock.”
“You are not only a waitress.”
Dominic looked interested again.
Norah wished he wouldn’t.
Elliot continued.
“You corrected the banquet invoice when Frank double-counted the seafood platters.”
Norah stared.
“How do you know that?”
“You told him the total was off by eight hundred forty dollars.”
“You heard that?”
“You were four meters away.”
Dominic leaned back against his desk.
“What did you do before waitressing?”
Norah’s jaw tightened.
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It might.”
She hated men who made questions sound like subpoenas.
“I studied accounting.”
Elliot nodded once, as though confirming an equation.
Dominic asked, “Where?”
“UIC.”
“Graduated?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Norah glanced at the door.
The answer was none of his business.
But Elliot was watching her without prying.
That somehow made lying feel unnecessary.
“My mother got sick. I left school.”
“I’m sorry,” Elliot said.
Not softly.
Not ceremonially.
Just plainly.
Norah believed him.
“Thanks.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You know financial statements?”
“I know enough to know six point eight million dollars doesn’t disappear because somebody forgot to carry a one.”
Enzo stood.
“This is insane. We’re discussing internal financials with a waitress because Elliot saw a vendor name on a phone?”
Elliot’s eyes narrowed.
“I saw the ledger.”
“You saw numbers you don’t understand.”
“I understand them.”
“No, you see patterns. That isn’t the same thing.”
Elliot’s hands went still.
Norah looked at Enzo.
“That was cruel on purpose.”
Enzo turned toward her.
“This doesn’t concern you.”
“No, but cruelty is easy to recognize across industries.”
“Get her out of here.”
Dominic said nothing.
Elliot’s breathing changed.
He stared at the edge of the desk.
Norah kept her voice level.
“Elliot.”
His eyes moved toward her.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll stay unless your father has security drag me out.”
Dominic exhaled through his nose.
“No one is dragging anyone.”
Enzo laughed bitterly.
“This is unbelievable.”
Dominic faced him.
“Then make it believable. What is Venturo?”
“A vendor.”
“I know that. Who owns it?”
“Our procurement team handles those contracts.”
“Who owns it?”
Enzo did not answer quickly enough.
Elliot did.
“Maribel Ortega.”
Dominic looked at him.
Elliot added, “At least on the registration.”
Enzo’s face tightened.
“Public record,” Elliot said.
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I checked.”
“When?”
“October third.”
Norah stared.
“Why October third?”
“That was when the invoice totals stopped matching shipment volume.”
Dominic slowly folded his arms.
“You noticed this five months ago.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“I wrote you an email.”
Dominic’s face went blank.
“When?”
“October fourth. Nine twelve in the morning.”
“I never saw it.”
“You did not reply.”
Enzo looked down.
Norah saw it.
A tiny movement.
A glance toward the phone.
Elliot saw it too.
His head tilted.
“You deleted it.”
Enzo’s eyes flashed.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You had access to Father’s inbox through the executive assistant portal during his surgery.”
“That proves nothing.”
“You also told me on October sixth that Father did not want me looking at company material.”
Dominic’s gaze shifted slowly.
Enzo said, “Because he didn’t.”
Dominic’s voice came quietly.
“I never told you that.”
Nobody moved.
The room seemed smaller.
Enzo’s confidence cracked.
Only for a second.
Then it returned as anger.
“Fine. I saw the email. It was rambling nonsense about number spacing.”
“It was not rambling.”
“You sent nine paragraphs about interval repetition.”
“Because interval repetition was the relevant anomaly.”
“You sounded insane.”
The word hung in the room.
Elliot went completely still.
Norah’s stomach tightened.
Dominic said, “Enough.”
Enzo ignored him.
“Everybody here knows what this is. He wants attention. She gave him some on the dance floor and now suddenly he’s a forensic accountant.”
Elliot’s hands closed into fists.
Norah stepped closer, but did not touch him.
“What do you need?” she asked.
Enzo scoffed.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
Elliot shut his eyes.
“Quiet.”
Norah looked at Dominic.
He understood.
“Out,” Dominic told Enzo.
“What?”
“Get out.”
“You’re taking his side?”
“I’m telling you to leave my office.”
Enzo stared at his father.
Then at Elliot.
Then at Norah.
“This is going to end badly.”
He walked out and slammed the door.
Elliot flinched.
Norah waited.
After several seconds, he opened his eyes.
“I’m okay.”
Dominic looked at him differently now.
Not gently.
Dominic Russo did not have gentle settings.
But carefully.
“Your email,” he said. “Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
Elliot took out his phone.
His hands were not shaking.
He opened a folder.
Then another.
He handed the phone to Dominic.
Norah watched Dominic read.
His expression darkened line by line.
Finally he looked up.
“This is not rambling.”
“No.”
“You mapped every payment.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the sequence bothered me.”
Dominic’s mouth tightened.
“Who else has seen this?”
“No one.”
Norah frowned.
“You didn’t send it to anyone after Enzo shut you down?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Elliot looked at her.
“Because he said Father thought it was stupid.”
The answer was so simple it made Norah angry all over again.
Dominic stared at the floor.
For a moment, he looked older.
Then business returned.
He took out his own phone and typed a message.
“Matteo will pull the accounting archive.”
Elliot asked, “Which Matteo?”
“Bellini.”
“He is Enzo’s godfather.”
Dominic’s thumb stopped.
Norah looked between them.
Elliot continued.
“He approved two Venturo contracts.”
Dominic lowered the phone.
“Who would you call?”
Elliot considered.
“No one inside the family.”
Norah felt a chill.
Dominic looked at his youngest son.
Again, that new expression.
Recognition.
“Who, then?”
Elliot looked at Norah.
She immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“You studied accounting.”
“I also like being alive.”
“I do too.”
“That is not the reassuring statement you think it is.”
Dominic rubbed one hand over his jaw.
“I can arrange protection.”
“No.”
“You may already need it.”
That stopped her.
Norah’s eyes narrowed.
“Excuse me?”
Dominic looked toward the closed door.
“If Enzo is involved in moving money, and if he believes you helped Elliot expose it…”
“I did not help him expose anything.”
“Facts are less important than what frightened people believe.”
Norah crossed her arms.
“That sounds like a problem with your family.”
“It is.”
“Then solve it.”
“I intend to.”
Elliot said, “She should not go home alone.”
Norah turned to him.
“I have managed to get myself home for thirty-two years.”
“Yes.”
“Without armed escorts.”
“Yes.”
“And I plan to continue.”
Elliot looked at the floor.
Then said, “Can I walk you?”
The question disarmed her because it was not an order.
“No guards?”
“No guards.”
“Do you carry a gun?”
“No.”
Dominic said, “He should.”
Elliot looked at him.
“I don’t like guns.”
Dominic opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Another fact about his son he apparently did not know.
Norah sighed.
“Fine. You can walk me to the train.”
Dominic’s face tightened.
“The train?”
“Yes, Dominic. Some of us travel with the public.”
“You’re not taking the train tonight.”
Norah stared.
“You are extremely comfortable bossing strangers around.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I didn’t ask to be involved.”
“No,” Dominic said. “You asked my son to dance.”
A strange expression moved through his face.
“And apparently that was enough to make half my family lose their minds.”
Norah glanced at Elliot.
He looked tired.
But not diminished.
The opposite.
As if speaking in that office had rearranged something in him too.
Dominic walked to a cabinet and removed a thin black folder.
He placed it on the desk.
“Venturo appeared in another report this week.”
“What report?” Elliot asked.
Dominic hesitated.
Then opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Warehouse entrances.
License plates.
A grainy image of two men outside a trucking yard.
Norah did not recognize either man.
Elliot did.
His face drained of color.
“That’s Valente.”
Dominic nodded.
The second man was turned partly away from the camera.
Elliot leaned closer.
Norah watched his eyes move across the image.
Shoes.
Watch.
Shoulder line.
A small tattoo near the wrist.
He whispered, “Enzo.”
Dominic said nothing.
Elliot pointed.
“The watch is the one Grandmother gave him. The crown is chipped.”
Norah looked at Dominic.
The patriarch’s face had become stone.
“What were they doing there?” she asked.
Dominic closed the folder.
“That,” he said, “is what I am going to find out.”
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Then answered.
“Yes.”
A man’s voice spoke rapidly on the other end.
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“When?”
Pause.
“Who knew?”
Another pause.
Then Dominic looked at Elliot.
For the first time that night, fear appeared in his eyes.
Not fear for money.
Not fear for power.
Fear for his son.
He ended the call.
“What happened?” Norah asked.
Dominic looked toward the door.
“The accountant who flagged Venturo this afternoon is dead.”
Elliot stared at him.
Dominic continued.
“Car accident.”
Norah felt cold move through her body.
Elliot said, “That is statistically convenient.”
Dominic looked at him.
May you like
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“It is.”
