Chapter 6 - THE COUNTERFEIT VINTAGE
The Maybach glided smoothly through the heavy Manhattan traffic, weaving down toward the industrial warehouses along the West Side highway.
Sophie stared at Alessandro, her mind racing. "Counterfeit wine? What are you talking about?"
"I’m talking about the 1982 Bordeaux you poured for me last night," Alessandro said smoothly, resting his arm along the leather console between them. "The bottle was authentic. But the crate it came from in the restaurant's basement cellar contained forty bottles of cheap Chilean swill with fake paper labels printed in Queens. Someone is using L’Étoile Noir as a front to launder millions in fake vintage inventory."
"And what does that have to do with me?" Sophie demanded, crossing her arms defensively.
"Laurent is running it," Alessandro stated simply. "He’s been skimming off the top of my distribution network for six months, using the restaurant's high-end clientele as cover. But Laurent is an idiot. He couldn't organize a two-car funeral. He has a partner. Someone who understands European trade law, high-society logistics, and archaic French wine classifications."
Alessandro turned his full, piercing gaze onto Sophie.
"Someone who used to work in high-end European diplomacy before her father’s disgrace forced her into hiding."
The air in the car turned to ice.
Sophie felt the blood drain entirely from her face. She shrank back against the leather seat, her hands trembling as she clutched her purse. "My father had nothing to do with criminals. He was framed by his own colleagues in the French Ministry."
"I know he was," Alessandro surprised her by saying. His voice dropped its harsh edge, becoming dangerously low and steady. "I spent the last twelve hours investigating Arthur Dubois. He was a good man who refused to sign off on illegal arms shipments to North Africa, so his superiors destroyed his reputation, stole his pension, and drove him into an early grave."
A tear slipped down Sophie’s cheek before she could stop it. She wiped it away furiously with the back of her hand. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because Laurent’s partner—the person orchestrating the logistics of this counterfeit ring—is scheduled to meet him in the back office of L’Étoile Noir tonight at midnight," Alessandro said, leaning forward. "I need someone inside the staff corridor who can bypass their encrypted digital ledger, read the shipping manifests, and tell me exactly who is backing Laurent."
"And why should I help you?" Sophie asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "You're a mafia don. You kill people for less."
"I protect my city," Alessandro corrected, his eyes locking onto hers with unyielding power. "And right now, someone is using my territory to play games. Help me expose Laurent and his silent partner, Sophie, and I will give you something better than paid rent."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a manila folder, tossing it onto her lap.
May you like
Sophie opened it with shaking fingers. Inside were certified legal documents from the French Ministry of Justice, completely clearing her father’s name of all corruption charges, along with a deed to a restored vineyard in Provence.
"Your father’s legacy, restored," Alessandro whispered. "All you have to do is play waitress one last time."
