Chapter 17 - The Men Who Called It Family

Salvatore Rossi was extradited four months later.

By then, Richard’s federal indictment had expanded.

Thirty-two counts tied to falsified medical records, conspiracy, obstruction, unlawful access, and financial fraud.

Paul Castellano faced murder-related charges in both Luca and Adrian’s deaths.

Gerald Pike pleaded guilty and agreed to testify.

Marco Bell entered witness protection after a cooperation agreement.

The story had grown too large for Natasha to hold emotionally.

So she stopped trying.

She worked.

Voss & Stone reopened in stages.

First the roof.

Then electrical.

Then plaster.

Miriam supervised everyone despite not being hired.

Elena started her own investigative consulting company in the office upstairs.

“You realize this makes us neighbors,” Natasha said.

“I negotiated rent.”

“You threatened my contractor.”

“He was overcharging you.”

“He lowered the invoice by twenty percent.”

“You’re welcome.”

Matteo visited rarely.

When he did, he asked first.

That was new too.

One afternoon, he arrived holding a subpoena.

“My father’s trial.”

Natasha set down a paint scraper.

“You’re testifying?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I would rather remove my own teeth.”

“Reasonable.”

“He requested to see me.”

“Will you?”

“No.”

She nodded.

Then he surprised her.

“I want to.”

Natasha looked at him.

“But I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what he wants.”

“What?”

“To explain.”

“Maybe you need that.”

“No. He needs it.”

The distinction sat between them.

Matteo continued.

“He has spent his whole life converting choices into obligations. Family. Loyalty. Survival. If I let him explain, he will tell me Luca forced him. Paul forced him. The Castellanos forced him. America forced him. Poverty forced him.”

“You don’t believe circumstances matter?”

“They matter. They do not become innocence.”

Natasha thought of Richard.

Stress.

Work.

Family pressure.

Poor communication.

“No,” she said. “They don’t.”

At trial, Salvatore’s attorneys argued he never ordered Luca’s death.

Technically, the recording supported that.

He ordered detention.

Paul fired the gun.

But prosecutors argued Salvatore created the criminal operation, ordered the abduction, concealed the killing, framed Vittorio Castellano, and continued protecting Paul afterward.

Matteo testified for two days.

Natasha attended only one hour.

She watched Salvatore stare at his son.

Not with hatred.

With heartbreak.

That was somehow worse.

The prosecutor asked Matteo, “Why did you continue participating in your father’s businesses after Luca died?”

Matteo answered, “Because grief made obedience feel like loyalty.”

“Did your father encourage you to seek revenge?”

“Yes.”

“Against whom?”

“The Castellanos.”

“Why?”

“To keep me from looking at him.”

Salvatore’s face did not move.

The prosecutor asked, “When did you learn your father had ordered Luca detained?”

“This year.”

“And what did you do?”

“I turned over my records.”

“Why?”

Matteo looked toward the jury.

“Because my brother spent his last year trying to stop what we were doing. I spent twelve years calling revenge love for him. It was not.”

Natasha left after that.

Outside the courthouse, Richard’s mother waited.

Diane Castellano.

She approached cautiously.

“Natasha.”

The protective order applied to Richard, not his mother.

Still, Natasha stepped back.

“What do you want?”

Diane looked older.

“I wanted to tell you I was wrong.”

Natasha said nothing.

“I read the hospital audit.”

“So?”

“I didn’t know.”

“That does not surprise me.”

Diane flinched.

“I knew Richard had a temper.”

Natasha went still.

“I knew he could be controlling.”

There it was.

Not ignorance.

A smaller truth hiding inside a larger denial.

“You knew enough.”

Diane’s eyes filled.

“Yes.”

Natasha waited.

“I kept thinking marriage would settle him.”

“You thought giving him a wife would improve him?”

Diane covered her mouth.

“When you say it like that—”

“How else is there to say it?”

“I’m sorry.”

Natasha felt anger rise.

Not wild anger.

Clean anger.

“You told me I was emotional when I described what he did.”

“I know.”

“You asked how I could ruin his reputation.”

“I know.”

“You did not ask whether I was safe.”

Diane cried.

Natasha did not comfort her.

“I’m sorry,” Diane repeated.

“I believe you.”

Hope flashed in Diane’s face.

Natasha continued.

“And I am not responsible for making your apology feel better.”

Diane lowered her eyes.

“No.”

“No.”

Natasha walked away.

At the studio, she found Matteo waiting outside with two coffees.

“The verdict?”

“Not yet.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I was told someone had a difficult morning.”

“Elena?”

“Miriam.”

“Traitors.”

He handed her coffee.

She accepted it.

“What happened?”

“I told Diane I believed her apology.”

“And?”

“I did not forgive her.”

Matteo nodded.

“That seems honest.”

“Is that cruel?”

“No.”

She looked at him.

“You answered too quickly.”

“Then ask someone less biased.”

“Miriam will say something devastating.”

“Yes.”

“Elena will invoice me.”

“Yes.”

Natasha smiled.

Inside, sunlight fell across newly restored terrazzo floors.

On the wall, she had hung Adrian’s sentence in a simple frame.

PEOPLE LIE. BUILDINGS DON’T.

Matteo read it.

“Your father would hate how often he is quoted now.”

“He would charge licensing fees.”

Matteo laughed.

Then his phone rang.

He answered.

His face went still.

Natasha knew.

“Verdict?”

He nodded.

“Guilty.”

She waited.

Matteo exhaled.

“On the major conspiracy counts.”

“How do you feel?”

May you like

[COMPLETED] My Mafia Boss Husband Spent the Night with His “Little Siste...

[COMPLETED] My Husband Slapped Me at the Country Club While I Was Pregna...

[COMPLETED] My Five-Year-Old Son Went Viral Trading Toys—Then the Billio...

He looked at the framed words.

“Like the building is still standing.”