Chapter 4 - The Ledger of Blood
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The air in the office grew cold despite the sunlight streaming through the windows.
"Tony Brandt works for you?" I asked, terror curling in my stomach.
"No," Dante replied instantly, his voice cutting through my panic like a blade.
"Brandt is a parasite who runs extortion rackets in the gray zones of the South Side."
"He operates under the delusion that because he pays kickbacks to one of my street captains, he is untouchable."
Dante walked back behind his desk and picked up the landline receiver.
"Send Frank Rossi up," he commanded, then replaced the handset.
Two minutes later, Frank entered the office, his silver hair immaculate and a leather briefcase under his arm.
When Frank saw me sitting in the executive armchair with an ice pack on my foot, his cheerful demeanor vanished.
"What happened to the girl?" Frank asked sharply.
"Tony Brandt pushed her down a staircase because she was short fifty dollars on an illegal loan shark debt," Dante said without preamble.
Frank’s face darkened, the grandfatherly warmth evaporating into something lethal.
"Brandt laid hands on a civilian?" Frank said, his knuckles whitening around his briefcase handle.
"Worse," Dante said, tossing my ledger sheets across the desk.
"Elena found a phantom vendor in our procurement books."
"Lakeshore Provisions."
"Marcus Vance has been approving thirty-two thousand dollars a month for phantom lobster and sea bass."
"The funds flow straight into Brandt’s offshore account in the Caymans."
Frank picked up the papers, his eyes moving over my neat, handwritten annotations and color-coded tabs.
He whistled softly through his teeth.
"She found this on day one?" Frank asked, looking at me with newfound admiration.
"By lunchtime," Dante confirmed.
Frank lowered the papers and looked directly at me.
"Miss Hale, I’ve had three different forensic accounting firms look over our books in the last two years."
"They all told me the food costs were high due to inflation."
"You did in four hours what six men with master's degrees couldn't do in twenty-four months."
"The numbers didn't make sense," I said quietly, feeling my cheeks warm. "Math doesn't lie. People do."
Dante leaned forward, placing both hands flat on his desk.
"Brandt has been stealing from my family to fund his loan sharking operations," Dante said.
"He used Moretti money to enslave Elena’s father."
"Then he used Elena’s payments to buy fuel for his cars while stealing another forty grand from my docks every thirty days."
Dante stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.
"Frank, freeze the Lakeshore account immediately."
"Do not alert Marcus Vance."
"Let Vance think the wire transfer is scheduled for Friday morning as usual."
"And what about Miss Hale?" Frank asked, glancing toward my swollen ankle.
"She is not going back to that apartment on 14th Street," Dante said firmly.
My head snapped up.
"Mr. Moretti, I have my clothes there, my books—"
"Brandt has keys to that building," Dante interrupted, leaving no room for argument.
"He knows where you sleep."
"When the Friday payment fails to arrive, where do you think he will go first?"
A chill ran down my spine as I pictured Tony Brandt standing outside my flimsy wooden apartment door with a crowbar.
"I can stay at a motel," I suggested.
"You will stay at the Drake Penthouse," Dante countered.
"Under my name."
"With two armed guards outside your door."
"I cannot afford that," I said, my pride flaring up despite my fear.
Dante looked at me, his gaze so intense it felt like a physical touch.
May you like
"You just saved this company four hundred thousand dollars a year, Miss Hale."
"Consider it your signing bonus."
