Part 5: Norma had been living in the manor three weeks when she started walking at night.
Part 5:
Norma had been living in the manor three weeks when she started walking at night. Sleep didn’t come easily in rooms that large, that quiet. Back home, she’d fallen asleep to the sound of the ocean and her sister’s breathing, to the familiar creak of old wood settling. Here, silence pressed against her ears until she had to move, had to do something other than lie in expensive sheets and feel like an impostor.
The gardens were beautiful under moonlight, all silver and shadow, but they felt as artificial as everything else in Trevino’s world. So she walked farther, past the manicured lawns toward the service entrance, where the real work of the estate happened, where deliveries arrived and staff smoked cigarettes and talked in voices that weren’t carefully modulated for the master’s ears. That’s where she saw Carlo Macheti.
She recognized him from dinners. Trevino’s underboss — a different one from Marcus, older, more senior — a man who sat at the right hand and laughed at appropriate moments and watched everything with eyes like calculation machines. He was supposed to be in Boston on business. Trevino had mentioned it that morning, feeding Biscuit pieces of bacon while reviewing shipping manifests. But here was Macheti, very much not in Boston, standing by the east gate with two men Norma had never seen before.
She faded into the shadows of the garden wall, her fisherman’s instincts screaming at her to be still, be quiet, be invisible.
“Can’t keep stalling,” one of the strangers was saying, his accent thick Eastern European. “Vargo wants an answer by Friday, or the offer disappears.”
“I need more time.” Macheti’s voice was tight. “Trevino’s been distracted lately, but he’s not stupid. If I move too fast—”
“Then don’t move. Step aside.” The second stranger lit a cigarette, the flare of the match illuminating hard features and harder eyes. “We’ll handle Trevino ourselves. Varga just needs to know you won’t get in the way. After Macheti’s gone—” the first man said, and something cold slid down Norma’s spine at how casually he’d said it, “—you run the harbor operations for Varga. Same territory, better percentage, and you don’t have to play second fiddle to a man who trusts his luck to some dock rat he pulled off the beach.”
The words hit Norma like a physical blow. She pressed her hand against the cold stone wall to steady herself.
“The girl’s irrelevant,” Macheti said, but there was uncertainty in his voice.
“Is she?” the first stranger stepped closer. “We’ve been watching, Macheti. He’s had her sit in on three major deals. Word is she spotted the Patterson fraud before Trevino’s own accountants did. She’s not decoration anymore. She’s a liability.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Varga wants to know if she’s included in the neutralization plan, or if you need us to handle that separately.”
The world tilted. Norma’s breath came too fast, too loud in her own ears. These men were talking about killing Trevino, about killing her, as casually as discussing shipping schedules.
“I’ll handle the girl if it comes to that,” Macheti said finally. “She’s nobody. No family that matters. No protection. She disappears. Who’s going to ask questions?”
“Good.” The cigarette arced through the air, landing in a shower of sparks. “Tell Macheti Varga’s patience has limits.”
They separated, the strangers disappearing through the gate in a black sedan, Macheti heading back toward the main house through a side entrance. Norma stayed frozen against the wall, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might crack her ribs.
She should go to Trevino right now, wake him and tell him everything. But what if he didn’t believe her? What if he thought she was trying to manipulate him, playing on his superstitions to eliminate a rival? Macheti had been with him for fifteen years. She’d been here for three weeks. A girl who’d pulled a puppy from the ocean versus a man who’d helped build an empire.
May you like
Norma closed her eyes and thought about her father teaching her to read the water. The current doesn’t care what you believe, he’d told her once. It is what it is. Your job is to see it clearly and act accordingly.
She saw this clearly. Macheti was going to betray Trevino. The Varga syndicate was moving against him, and she had until Friday to figure out how to prove it.
