Chapter 8 - The Shadow of Sal
While Vanguard was being dismantled by the Department of Justice, one loose end still remained: Salvatore “Sal” Moretti.
Sal had avoided formal federal charges because Dominic’s team had scrubbed his name from the public record to avoid drawing unwanted law enforcement scrutiny to the Caruso organization’s inner workings.
Instead, Sal was kept under round-the-clock armed guard at a secluded farmhouse in rural Lancaster County.
The rain was falling heavily when Dominic’s car pulled up the gravel driveway. He walked into the rustic dining room where Sal sat alone at a wooden table, sipping cold coffee, his eyes sunken and filled with dread.
“Boss,” Sal whispered, his voice trembling. “Are you... are you going to finish it?”
Dominic sat down across from his former second-in-command. He looked at the man who had stood by his side through twenty years of street wars, corporate takeovers, and political battles.
“You traded my daughter’s life for your own fear, Sal,” Dominic said, his tone devoid of anger, carrying only a hollow sadness. “A man who can be broken by fear cannot lead.”
“I’m sorry, Dominic,” Sal sobbed, burying his face in his scarred hands. “God help me, I was weak!”
Dominic pushed an airplane ticket and a thick envelope filled with cash across the table.
Sal looked up, stunned. “What’s this?”
“A one-way ticket to a ranch in Argentina,” Dominic said softly. “You leave tonight. You change your name. You never contact anyone in Philadelphia again. If I ever hear your name spoken in this state after midnight... Miller won't be disarming anything next time.”
Sal stared at the envelope, then at Dominic, tears running freely down his weathered cheeks. “Thank you, Boss... thank you.”
May you like
Dominic stood up and walked out into the rain without looking back. Kindness to a fallen brother was the rarest commodity in his world, but today, he had drawn his final boundary.
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