Chapter 4 - The Shadow of the Commission
The next week was a blur of high-stakes tension. The atmosphere inside the Marchetti household grew suffocatingly dense. Armed guards were now posted at every entrance of the brownstone, their dark suits concealing automatic weapons. Alaric was rarely home, and when he was, he was surrounded by a cadre of gruff, silent men who looked at me with open suspicion whenever I arrived for my lessons with Sophia.
"There's a war coming, Mia," Tony whispered to me one evening at Rosetti's, as I was picking up an order of chicken parmigiana. Tony was more than just a bartender; he had been around the neighborhood long enough to know the movements of the underworld. "The Luciano family is pushing hard against the Marchetti territory. They intercepted a major supply line last week. Word on the street is there’s a rat inside Alaric’s inner circle."
I kept my face completely blank, channeling every ounce of my waitress training. "I just serve the food, Tony. I don't know anything about that."
"Just stay safe, kid," Tony said, a worried look in his eyes. "If the Marchetti tower falls, a lot of innocent people are going to get crushed in the rubble."
My heart pounded in my chest throughout my entire shift. The moment midnight struck, I rushed out of the restaurant and took a taxi directly to the brownstone for a special late-night prep session Sophia had begged for.
When I arrived, the house was eerily quiet. The guards at the gate let me in without a word, their faces grim. Anna guided me to the kitchen, where Sophia was already waiting, her small hands neatly arranged on the counter.
"We have to be very quiet tonight, Mia," Sophia whispered, her eyes wide with a nervous intensity. "Papa is in the study with Uncle Matteo. They’ve been shouting for hours. I think something bad happened."
Matteo was Alaric’s underboss and childhood friend—the only man Alaric supposedly trusted with his life.
"Don't worry about the noise upstairs, sweetheart," I said, trying to project a calmness I didn't feel. "Let's focus on our secret weapon. Today we practice the rosemary rub for the lamb. We need to make sure the salt-to-herb ratio is exactly right."
For the next hour, we worked in soft whispers. I guided Sophia's hands as she stripped the needle-like leaves from the rosemary sprigs, her small fingers bruising the herbs to release their fragrant, pine-like oils. We minced them together, using a small plastic chopper I had brought to ensure she wouldn't cut herself with the heavy chef's knives.
Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the kitchen slammed open.
I jumped, instinctively stepping in front of Sophia.
Alaric stood in the doorway. His tie was completely undone, his white shirt stained with what looked dangerously like grease and dried blood near the cuff. Behind him stood Matteo, a tall, imposing man with a jagged scar running down his cheek. Matteo’s hand was resting heavily on the hilt of his holstered firearm.
"Alaric, what’s going on?" I demanded, my voice shaking despite my best efforts.
"Miss Chen, you need to leave. Now," Alaric said, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth. "The house is no longer secure. Matteo, escort her to the car."
"Wait, Alaric," Matteo said, stepping forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. "She’s the waitress from Rosetti’s, right? The one who just happened to show up the exact week our internal operational routes started leaking to the Lucianos?"
My blood ran instantly cold. "What are you implying? I don't know anything about your routes!"
"Matteo, enough," Alaric snapped, his arm slashing through the air. "She’s a civilian. I had her vetted myself."
"You vetted her financials, Alaric, but you didn't check who her father used to work for before he died," Matteo said, a cruel, triumphant smile spreading across his scarred face. "David Chen was a bookkeeper for the Luciano family ten years ago. She’s a plant, Alaric. She used the kid to get inside your house, and she’s been feeding information to Chicago through the restaurant."
I stared at Matteo in absolute horror. "My father was an accountant! He did regular tax preparation! He didn't know anything about the Lucianos until they threatened him into doing their books! That’s why he had a heart attack—from the stress!"
"Papa, no!" Sophia screamed, her cane clattering to the floor as she reached out blindly, her voice thick with tears. "Mia isn't a liar! She loves me! She taught me how to hear the water boil! She wouldn't hurt us!"
Alaric stood frozen, his eyes fixed on me. The gray in his gaze was no longer cold winter—it was a raging, stormy sea of profound betrayal and agony. He looked at me as if I had personally pulled the trigger on his soul.
"Is it true, Mia?" he whispered, his voice dangerously low. "Was your father involved with the Lucianos?"
"He was forced to work for them for six months before he died, Alaric," I sobbed, the tears streaming down my face. "But I didn't know! I swear to God, I didn't know until after he passed away and the bills came in! I have never spoken to a Luciano in my life! I came here for Sophia! Only for Sophia!"
"She’s lying, Don Alaric," Matteo said, drawing his weapon with a smooth, practiced motion. "Let me take her down to the basement. I’ll get the truth out of her before the Lucianos even realize their asset has been compromised."
"No!" Sophia shrieked, throwing herself in front of me, her small arms wrapping tightly around my waist. "If you hurt her, Matteo, I will never speak to you again! Papa, protect her! Please!"
Alaric looked at his crying, blind daughter clinging to the woman who had brought light back into their home. The conflict in his expression was devastating to witness—the mafia king torn between the brutal survival instincts of his world and the desperate pleas of his child.
Slowly, Alaric raised his own weapon, pointing it directly at Matteo’s chest.
"Put the gun down, Matteo," Alaric commanded, his voice shaking with a terrifying, lethal authority.
Matteo blinked in utter shock. "Alaric... you’re losing your mind over a girl? Over a waitress?"
"I said, put it down," Alaric growled, stepping forward until the barrel of his gun pressed against Matteo’s sternum. "Miss Chen is leaving this house tonight. Unharmed. If I find out she is the leak, I will personally handle it. But until I have definitive proof, no one touches a single hair on her head. Do you understand me, Matteo?"
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Matteo stared at his boss for a long, agonizing heartbeat, before slowly lowering his weapon. "You're making a fatal mistake, Alaric. The Commission meeting is tomorrow. If the Lucianos strike us then, your mercy will be the death of us all."
Alaric didn't look at him. He kept his eyes fixed on me, his expression dead and hollow. "Get out of my house, Mia. And don't ever come back."
