Chapter 6 - The Paper Trail
The failed hit only fueled my anger. I wasn't just going to send Marcus to prison; I was going to burn his entire empire to the ash.
I contacted my old FBI handler, a grizzled veteran named Vance—ironically, no relation to my husband, just the man who taught me everything I knew. We met in the back of a diner at 3:00 AM.
"You stirred up a hornet's nest, Nora," he grumbled, sliding a manila folder across the sticky table. "Your husband isn't just a corrupt politician. He's the washing machine."
I opened the folder. The documents inside made my blood run cold. Marcus wasn't just skimming campaign funds. He was laundering money for the Vitiello crime family. The real estate developments, the charity galas—they were all fronts.
"The mob," I breathed. "He's in bed with the Vitiellos."
"And they are panicking," my handler said. "They think he's going to flip to save himself from the domestic battery and fraud charges. If Marcus takes a plea deal and sings to the DA, the Vitiellos go down. Which means..."
"Which means they're going to silence him," I finished.
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I looked at the photos in the folder. Marcus had built his ego on the idea that he was the apex predator. But in reality, he was just a disposable pawn to much scarier men. If the mob got to him before trial, he would die a martyr in the public eye.
I couldn't let that happen. Marcus needed to stand trial. He needed the world to see him stripped of his power. I wasn't going to let a mob hitman steal my justice.
