Chapter 5 - The Valetti Leak
The rain returned on Friday night, a freezing October downpour that turned the Chicago River into a churning soup of gray silt and city runoff. Inside the private office of Victor Reyes on the lower east side, the air was thick with the smell of expensive cigars and old, damp concrete.
Victor sat across from a man named Carlo Valetti. Valetti was thirty-nine, with the clean-cut hair of an investment banker and the hollow, dead eyes of a second-generation cartel boss who had spent his youth running enforcement crews in Cicero.
"Dominic is moving the Nautilus assets into a personal trust," Victor said, sliding a printed copy of the temporary guardianship order across the desk. "He bypassed the board entirely. He’s using some bastard girl to claim the Calumet Yard voting rights."
Valetti picked up the paper, his manicured fingers tracing the name Sophia Elena Vasquez Reyes. "Elena Vasquez," he murmured, a slow, ugly smile spreading across his face. "I remember her. She was the one who locked our logistical accounts at the transit authority two years ago. We lost twelve million dollars in container clearances because she found the double-entry tokens."
"She’s dead," Victor said. "But the kid is five years old. Dominic has her living in the penthouse at Reyes Tower. He’s soft, Carlo. He’s stepping down from the active trading floor to handle some DCFS compliance review. If the Reyes Group goes public while Dominic is distracted by a child, we can force a proxy fight and take the port out from under him."
Valetti tossed the paper back onto the desk. "A child isn't an asset, Victor. It’s a lever. Dominic Reyes thinks he’s an iron wall because he doesn't love anything. He’s spent fifteen years killing anyone who tried to find his weak spot. Now he puts his own name on a Cook County birth certificate?"
"He had to," Victor explained. "If he didn't sign, the port would have gone to the state. It was a business choice."
May you like
"It doesn't matter why he did it," Valetti said, standing up and smoothing the front of his cashmere overcoat. "The fact is, his name is on the paper. That means the state says she’s his. And that means the street says she’s his too."
He turned to his lead enforcer, a massive, silent man named Bruno who stood by the door. "Find out what time the kid goes to that fancy school on the north side. Dominic Reyes wants to play father? Let's see how much he's willing to pay for tuition."
