“He had the documents, Uncle. He showed me the signatures on the transfer.”

I took a half-step to the side, trying to draw their attention away from the old man.

“Marcus, look at him,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as my training demanded.

Marcus glanced at me, his eyes cold and wild.

“The maid,” he spat. “The quiet girl who cleans the blood off the floors.”

“I know who killed your father, Marcus,” I said.

“Shut up!” Marcus roared, his arm jerking.

One of his men moved to the left, trying to flank us in the shadows of the containers.

I recognized him even in the dim light.

It was Romano, Tony’s chief enforcer.

He had a radio clipped to his collar, its small red LED light blinking steadily.

Romano wasn’t here to help Marcus get justice.

He was here to make sure neither Vincenzo nor Marcus left this dock alive.

“Vincenzo didn’t sign those papers, Marcus,” I said, keeping my eyes on Romano.

“He did,” Marcus insisted, his hand trembling on the trigger. “He wanted the docks for himself.”