Page 90 of Her Dark Salvation

“He changed the chargeback of the state and local taxes in the expense reports only on the accounting side. Since taxes are uniform across all income sources, the operating and net profits looked totally normal. That’s why no one in the accounting department picked up on the discrepancy.

“But the model did. It’s comprehensive of both streams as well as tax, inflation, and exchange rates. You saw the uniform drain yourself. He must have funneled the chargeback difference into a separate account before paying the actual taxes. It’s quite ingenious when you—” My voice hitched, and I winced. “Think about it,” I finished quietly. God, what a jerk. “I’m sorry, Marco. I’m so sorry.”

Marco’s hands fisted, and his nostrils flared with angry breath. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and the crimson sparks in his eyes solidified into a steady fire.

I shifted, alternating my weight between my feet, unsure what to say or what came next.

He rose, picked up his phone, and sent a text, all the while vibrating with rage. He came around the end of his desk, pulled me into him with a firm hand splayed across my sweaty lower back, and kissed my forehead.

“Thank you,” he said, but the words were heavy and terse. He looked into my eyes. “Don’t mention this to anyone. Capisce?”

I nodded.

“I’ll text you later.”

He kissed me, hard and fast, then released me and headed for the door. He pulled on his coat. “Lock it on your way out,” he commanded and walked out of his office. The elevator dinged like a scene break, starting the next act in this surreal movie.

I exhaled, and my shoulders descended out of my ears. What a mess. Luca Moretti, the man Marco raised and loved like a son, had stolen enough money from his foster father to jeopardize his business. I had no idea where Marco was going or what he was planning to do, but I had a feeling I didn’t want to know.

ChapterTwenty-Five

Marco

My right fist connected with the thick leather—Smack! Smack! Smack!—till my shoulder burned. Vito glared at me from behind the hanging bag.

“Cazzo!” I raged at no one. At everyone. At myself.

I pivoted and took long strides away from the bag. I flexed my hand and inspected my red knuckles. I should’ve wrapped them better. They’d be a bloody mess by the time I was done. I didn’t care. I needed to pound something, and better the bag than Luca’s face.

Sweat stung my eyes. I grabbed a towel off the ropes and wiped it from my face. “Not a fucking word. Nothing. Not till we know whether Vinnie is involved.” I locked eyes with Carmine, then Angelo. They were in their shirtsleeves, leaning back against the ropes, watching me unleash my rage. I pointed at each of them with the sweaty towel. “Capisce?”

Angelo nodded.

“Not a word,” Carmine said.

I spun around and pointed the towel at Vito.

“Got it, boss.”

“I doubt Vinnie knows,” Angelo said and shook his head. “You’re not gonna like this, Marco, but it needs to be said. That kid’s volatile. Always has been. He’s a blind spot for you, and you know it.”

Rage swelled and made my head feel like it was going to explode. I let out a roar that would’ve made a wild animal jealous and lost control. My fangs descended and so much power surged through my blood, my eyes must have lit up like a goddamn satanic lighthouse.

Over the rush of blood in my ears, Carmine shouted, “Grab that bag, Vito!” right before I unleashed my fists in a flurry of hooks and swings. My power flowed freely, and I channeled all my unbridled anger, frustration, and pain over Luca’s betrayal into that bag. I drained myself before taking one final swing. I slammed my left fist into the bag with everything I had left. Vito grunted, and the cracked leather split, fraying at the edges of a fist-sized tear.

“Goddammit, Marco!” Vito’s eyes glowed red with effort and irritation.

I shoved my hands into my hair, panting with effort. They throbbed with the beat of my pulse. Blood soaked through the wrap around my left hand and dripped onto the floor.

Vito came up behind me and handed me a towel. “You owe me another heavy bag.”

“Send me the bill,” I growled and glared at him.

“Don’t be a dick,” he snapped.

I hauled back to punch him, but Vito was quick, and I was exhausted. He blocked my swing and pushed me away, eyes a dim crimson.

“You need to cool off, boss.” He pointed a finger in my face. “Get that rage under control. I know Luca is like a son to you, and I know this is bringing up all sorts of shit with Tony, but you need to get it together unless you want to tip him off.”

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