| General Fiction posted November 26, 2024 | Chapters: |
...22 23 -24- 25... 
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Rossi rolls the dice
A chapter in the book Miracles
Miracles - Chap 24
by Begin Again
Vince Rossi felt confident after giving the DiVito crew his ultimatum. Everything was falling in place, and once the mess with Donatelli was wrapped up, he could drop the bomb on Doyle and proceed with his plans to be all-powerful in Bayside. All he had to do was step into Doyle's shoes, and it would be smooth sailing.
He leaned against the hood of the car, smoking a Cuban cigar, surrounded by men he knew he could count on, guys who had climbed out of Lexington's shadow with him and would be rewarded when he was in charge. Their loyalty was solid.
The night was still, except for the hum of cicadas. Not a sound came from his crew or the one inside the gates.
He squinted, trying to determine why a lone figure was approaching the gates. The man's stride was assured and steady. As he continued moving toward the gate, he stopped briefly under one of the many streetlights lining the driveway, allowing his face to light up under the glow. Rossi's cigar slipped from his fingers, but he forced a grin to cover his feelings.
He recognized his boss. The gates opened, and Rossi moved toward Jack. "Mr. Lexington, I'm honored. I didn't think taking Donatelli down was that important. Though, I am surprised to see you exit the house."
"I wanted to see firsthand how you clean up this Donatelli mess. I trust you've got it under control."
Rossi grinned. "Just like clockwork."
Jack fought to remain calm. He did not want to show his hand to Rossi until it was too late. "I don't mean to step on any toes, but Frank and I go way back. We had a chat, and he understands what's going down. Being the businessman he is, he's agreed to meet our demands."
"You're joking, right? There's no way Frank DiVito and his FBI pal would back down that easily. What's the deal?"
"Frank's retired. He doesn't want to be involved in warfare. And Garth, he's just interested in taking Doyle down, which is an easy fix."
Rossi laughed. "I got to hand it to you, Jack, I mean, Mr. Lexington. I never thought we'd get Donatelli without going in with these automatic rifles leveling the place."
"See, Vince, that's something you never learned — you gotta use your brain, not your brawn. DiVito and I are businessmen, and we made a deal, even shook hands on it."
"A deal — for Donatelli?"
"Enough talk! You and I are going up to the house to have a nice chat with Frank. No shooting, no bloodshed, just simple business."
"What about the men? Are they coming with us?" Vince looked back at his usual crew. They were his backup, his firepower.
Jack knew his plan hinged on his next move. He stepped up on the bumper of Vince's car and yelled, "You look like intelligent men to me, and most of you probably know who I am. For those who don't, my name — Jack Lexington — should be all the information you need."
Rossi's jaw tightened. He should've been the one giving orders, but damn if Jack didn't have a way of owning the room — or the yard, in this case.
One by one, the rifles lowered. Rossi didn't need to turn around to know that Jack's name had just rearranged the hierarchy of power among his men.
A low rumble of voices could be heard throughout the area. Jack raised his hand to silence them, and then he continued. "Vince and I are going inside to settle a deal with Frank DiVito — nice and friendly like. I want you men to stand down and go home. I've given my word to Frank that you'll do this because, after all, you are on the Lexington payroll. If that's a problem for anyone, I will not be responsible for any reactions from inside."
At that point, armed men exited Frankie's house and spaced themselves across the front yard. Rossi glared at Frank's men but didn't say a word.
Jack jumped off the bumper and waved, calling, "Good night, gentlemen. Thanks for your co-operation."
Vince could feel the sweat running down his back. as Jack slapped him on the shoulder.
His hand was firm, steering him toward the house like a man guiding a lamb to slaughter. Rossi frowned. Something about Jack's confidence gnawed at him, but he dismissed it. Business was business, after all. Right?
"Relax, Vince. It's all going to be over in nothing flat."
******
Vince gasped as they entered Frank's home. The mansion was a masterpiece of wealth and refinement — polished marble floors gleaming under the soft flow of a crystal chandelier, towering ceilings, and walls lined with oil paintings and sculptures.
"This," Vince muttered under his breath, trailing a finger along the edge of a carved banister as they ascended the sweeping staircase, "is what it's all about."
Jack shot him a glance but said nothing, his expression impassive as always.
As they reached the double doors leading to Frank's office, Vince paused to take in the intricate woodwork. He opened his mouth to comment, but Jack didn't wait. With a deliberate push, his boss opened the door without knocking.
"Seriously?" Vince hissed, startled by the boldness.
Jack didn't break stride, stepping inside as if he owned the place. Vince followed, his awe deepening as he took in the office. The space was commanding — massive bookshelves lined with leather-bound volumes, a mahogany desk, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the manicured grounds.
Frank stood by the desk, a champagne bottle in one hand, his easygoing demeanor momentarily frozen. Garth and Eleanor sat near the window, the conversation halting mid-sentence as the intruders arrived.
Vince didn't acknowledge them. His attention was fixed on the room itself, drinking in every detail. "Now this," he murmured, barely audible, "is the dream."
Frank set the champagne bottle down, his sharp eyes flicking between Jack and Vince, gauging the situation. "Glad you could make it," he said, keeping his tone calm.
Vince's lips curled into a faint smile. "Thought we'd drop by and take Donatelli off your hands. Hope that's not a problem."
Eleanor's gaze lingered on Vince — her expression cold. Garth leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, silently observing. His tapping fingers on the arm of the chair were the only clue that his emotions were strung tight.
Looking in Garth's direction, Rossi grinned. "I heard you got caught up in a little ruckus at the Hideaway. Sorry, I missed you." He chuckled at his joke and glanced toward Eleanor, getting a vibe he didn't understand nor like before stepping toward Frank. "Champagne? Are we celebrating Donatelli's demise?"
Frank stopped pouring, his hand gripping the bottle, knowing that his reaction could upset the apple cart, so to speak. Rossi continued, "Don't worry. He'll never see it coming." He glanced at Lexington and mistook his boss's silence for support.
Frank inhaled, counting to ten, ordering himself to remain calm. Holding a champagne glass in his hand, he offered everyone a glass. He raised his, and everyone but Rossi followed suit. "In honor of the birth of Margaret Eleanor Donatelli."
Rossi's eyes narrowed. He sipped his champagne without toasting. "So, there's a new Donatelli in this world. It's a shame she won't know her father. But probably for the best."
Eleanor's gasp shattered the silence like a sharp intake of breath in a storm. She rose from her seat, her eyes ablaze with an emotion Rossi couldn't quite place — was it anger or something more dangerous? But before she could unleash the storm brewing inside her, Garth's hand on her arm stopped her, and she sank back, an icy chill filling the room.
Jack watched it all, his fingers tapping idly against the rim of his glass. "I'd like to make a toast as well."
Thinking his boss had realized the importance of this moment - taking Donatelli out of circulation, Rossi shouted, "Cheers!"
Ignoring Rossi, Jack continued, "I've been thinking about loyalty — what it means."
Smirking, Rossi chimed, "You don't have to question mine. I'm solid."
Jack raised a hand, and Rossi froze mid-sentence, his confident grin slipping from his face like a mask. The sudden change in Jack's demeanor had caught him off guard.
"Loyalty isn't about convenience. It's about respect. And from what I've seen, Vince, you've lost sight of both."
"Jack — Mr. Lexington —" Rossi stammered, his bravado cracking. "Whatever you've heard, it's all lies. I've always been loyal to you."
Jack smiled then, but it wasn't kind. "There's been rumblings. You chose the wrong side, Vince."
"No — you've got it wrong. I was teaching people so they would know who was in charge." Rossi could feel the panic setting in.
Jack stepped closer, smiling and tapping his glass against Rossi's. "You're right there, Vince. It's time everyone knows who's in charge." Turning toward Garth, he smiled and tipped his head slightly. "He's yours!"
Garth moved toward Rossi, but he jerked away. "Jack, what's going on here? Haven't I always been there for you?"
"I thought so until I learned how you've been making deals and racking up points with the powers to be. I'm afraid John Doyle's shoes were too big for you."
"Jack, I've done all this for you to widen your reach."
"I doubt that, but regardless, we don't cross over into our neighbor's backyard. These people are Frank's family."
"But Doyle —"
"Another one who forgot who was in charge. He's about to learn a lesson or two. Maybe you two can study together while rotting in a jail cell."
Rossi screamed, "You can't do this to me. I've got men —" He reached the door and swung it open, finding two of his henchmen standing in the hallway, blocking his escape. "Hank! Terrence! Don't let them do this."
Neither man made a move as the gravity of the situation sank into Rossi's head.
Lexington signaled to Frankie, who nodded toward the two guards. "Sorry, Vince. It's already done."
Rossi struggled and screamed as Garth approached, clamping the handcuffs on Rossi's wrists. His curses echoed down the hallway as he was taken away, his protests growing fainter with each step.
Jack drank the last of his champagne and turned back to Frank. "Now, where were we?"
Frankie cleared his throat and walked toward the large portrait on the wall. With a subtle press of a hidden button, the portrait swung open to reveal a small safe. The soft click of the lock echoed as he turned the dial and pulled the door open.
Inside, resting on black velvet, was a pouch tied with a thin gold cord. Frankie removed the tie, his expression unreadable as he faced the group.
"I know what you're all thinking," he began, his voice steady. "Doyle. Everyone thought he had them — that the diamonds were the key to his power in prison." Frankie's gaze moved to Eleanor, lingering momentarily before landing on Jack. "But they weren't. I had them. I've always had them."
Eleanor gasped, her hand rising instinctively to her chest. Even Garth, ordinarily calm, shifted uneasily in his seat before questioning Frank. "Then why let Doyle use them to gain power?"
"His games inside prison didn't mean anything to me until he stepped over the line." Frank's eyes were filled with sadness as he glanced at Eleanor. "If I had known —"
She shook her head. "Even I didn't foresee the future and how evil he could be. None of us did. It's not your fault, Frankie."
Jack sets his glass down. "Why keep them, Frank? You could've traded them for peace, power — hell, anything you wanted."
"At first, it was amusing to watch everyone scrambling to figure out where they were and how they could convince Doyle to surrender them, something he couldn't possibly do."
"Then why part with them now? You knew I would take Rossi down in time."
Frankie smiled and untied the pouch, pouring the diamonds into his hand. "Because some things are worth more than money or power." He rolled the gems around, watching them glitter. "Like saving a friend's life."
Jack's brow furrowed as Frankie stepped closer, holding out the diamonds. "They're yours, Jack."
Jack hesitated, then accepted the pouch, his fingers brushing over the cool, sharp edges of the stones.
Frankie's tone softened as he added, "I've been holding onto these for too long, waiting for the right moment. But now — I think it's time they served a better purpose."
Jack studied the diamonds, his mind working, before plucking a flawless stone from the pouch. He turned to Eleanor, his expression uncharacteristically warm. "For Margaret."
Eleanor's eyes widened, her hand trembling as she accepted the gem. "Jack — I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Jack replied. "Just make sure she knows where it came from — and why."
Frankie refilled the glasses, raising his to propose a toast. "To new beginnings."
He leaned against the hood of the car, smoking a Cuban cigar, surrounded by men he knew he could count on, guys who had climbed out of Lexington's shadow with him and would be rewarded when he was in charge. Their loyalty was solid.
The night was still, except for the hum of cicadas. Not a sound came from his crew or the one inside the gates.
He squinted, trying to determine why a lone figure was approaching the gates. The man's stride was assured and steady. As he continued moving toward the gate, he stopped briefly under one of the many streetlights lining the driveway, allowing his face to light up under the glow. Rossi's cigar slipped from his fingers, but he forced a grin to cover his feelings.
He recognized his boss. The gates opened, and Rossi moved toward Jack. "Mr. Lexington, I'm honored. I didn't think taking Donatelli down was that important. Though, I am surprised to see you exit the house."
"I wanted to see firsthand how you clean up this Donatelli mess. I trust you've got it under control."
Rossi grinned. "Just like clockwork."
Jack fought to remain calm. He did not want to show his hand to Rossi until it was too late. "I don't mean to step on any toes, but Frank and I go way back. We had a chat, and he understands what's going down. Being the businessman he is, he's agreed to meet our demands."
"You're joking, right? There's no way Frank DiVito and his FBI pal would back down that easily. What's the deal?"
"Frank's retired. He doesn't want to be involved in warfare. And Garth, he's just interested in taking Doyle down, which is an easy fix."
Rossi laughed. "I got to hand it to you, Jack, I mean, Mr. Lexington. I never thought we'd get Donatelli without going in with these automatic rifles leveling the place."
"See, Vince, that's something you never learned — you gotta use your brain, not your brawn. DiVito and I are businessmen, and we made a deal, even shook hands on it."
"A deal — for Donatelli?"
"Enough talk! You and I are going up to the house to have a nice chat with Frank. No shooting, no bloodshed, just simple business."
"What about the men? Are they coming with us?" Vince looked back at his usual crew. They were his backup, his firepower.
Jack knew his plan hinged on his next move. He stepped up on the bumper of Vince's car and yelled, "You look like intelligent men to me, and most of you probably know who I am. For those who don't, my name — Jack Lexington — should be all the information you need."
Rossi's jaw tightened. He should've been the one giving orders, but damn if Jack didn't have a way of owning the room — or the yard, in this case.
One by one, the rifles lowered. Rossi didn't need to turn around to know that Jack's name had just rearranged the hierarchy of power among his men.
A low rumble of voices could be heard throughout the area. Jack raised his hand to silence them, and then he continued. "Vince and I are going inside to settle a deal with Frank DiVito — nice and friendly like. I want you men to stand down and go home. I've given my word to Frank that you'll do this because, after all, you are on the Lexington payroll. If that's a problem for anyone, I will not be responsible for any reactions from inside."
At that point, armed men exited Frankie's house and spaced themselves across the front yard. Rossi glared at Frank's men but didn't say a word.
Jack jumped off the bumper and waved, calling, "Good night, gentlemen. Thanks for your co-operation."
Vince could feel the sweat running down his back. as Jack slapped him on the shoulder.
His hand was firm, steering him toward the house like a man guiding a lamb to slaughter. Rossi frowned. Something about Jack's confidence gnawed at him, but he dismissed it. Business was business, after all. Right?
"Relax, Vince. It's all going to be over in nothing flat."
******
Vince gasped as they entered Frank's home. The mansion was a masterpiece of wealth and refinement — polished marble floors gleaming under the soft flow of a crystal chandelier, towering ceilings, and walls lined with oil paintings and sculptures.
"This," Vince muttered under his breath, trailing a finger along the edge of a carved banister as they ascended the sweeping staircase, "is what it's all about."
Jack shot him a glance but said nothing, his expression impassive as always.
As they reached the double doors leading to Frank's office, Vince paused to take in the intricate woodwork. He opened his mouth to comment, but Jack didn't wait. With a deliberate push, his boss opened the door without knocking.
"Seriously?" Vince hissed, startled by the boldness.
Jack didn't break stride, stepping inside as if he owned the place. Vince followed, his awe deepening as he took in the office. The space was commanding — massive bookshelves lined with leather-bound volumes, a mahogany desk, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the manicured grounds.
Frank stood by the desk, a champagne bottle in one hand, his easygoing demeanor momentarily frozen. Garth and Eleanor sat near the window, the conversation halting mid-sentence as the intruders arrived.
Vince didn't acknowledge them. His attention was fixed on the room itself, drinking in every detail. "Now this," he murmured, barely audible, "is the dream."
Frank set the champagne bottle down, his sharp eyes flicking between Jack and Vince, gauging the situation. "Glad you could make it," he said, keeping his tone calm.
Vince's lips curled into a faint smile. "Thought we'd drop by and take Donatelli off your hands. Hope that's not a problem."
Eleanor's gaze lingered on Vince — her expression cold. Garth leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, silently observing. His tapping fingers on the arm of the chair were the only clue that his emotions were strung tight.
Looking in Garth's direction, Rossi grinned. "I heard you got caught up in a little ruckus at the Hideaway. Sorry, I missed you." He chuckled at his joke and glanced toward Eleanor, getting a vibe he didn't understand nor like before stepping toward Frank. "Champagne? Are we celebrating Donatelli's demise?"
Frank stopped pouring, his hand gripping the bottle, knowing that his reaction could upset the apple cart, so to speak. Rossi continued, "Don't worry. He'll never see it coming." He glanced at Lexington and mistook his boss's silence for support.
Frank inhaled, counting to ten, ordering himself to remain calm. Holding a champagne glass in his hand, he offered everyone a glass. He raised his, and everyone but Rossi followed suit. "In honor of the birth of Margaret Eleanor Donatelli."
Rossi's eyes narrowed. He sipped his champagne without toasting. "So, there's a new Donatelli in this world. It's a shame she won't know her father. But probably for the best."
Eleanor's gasp shattered the silence like a sharp intake of breath in a storm. She rose from her seat, her eyes ablaze with an emotion Rossi couldn't quite place — was it anger or something more dangerous? But before she could unleash the storm brewing inside her, Garth's hand on her arm stopped her, and she sank back, an icy chill filling the room.
Jack watched it all, his fingers tapping idly against the rim of his glass. "I'd like to make a toast as well."
Thinking his boss had realized the importance of this moment - taking Donatelli out of circulation, Rossi shouted, "Cheers!"
Ignoring Rossi, Jack continued, "I've been thinking about loyalty — what it means."
Smirking, Rossi chimed, "You don't have to question mine. I'm solid."
Jack raised a hand, and Rossi froze mid-sentence, his confident grin slipping from his face like a mask. The sudden change in Jack's demeanor had caught him off guard.
"Loyalty isn't about convenience. It's about respect. And from what I've seen, Vince, you've lost sight of both."
"Jack — Mr. Lexington —" Rossi stammered, his bravado cracking. "Whatever you've heard, it's all lies. I've always been loyal to you."
Jack smiled then, but it wasn't kind. "There's been rumblings. You chose the wrong side, Vince."
"No — you've got it wrong. I was teaching people so they would know who was in charge." Rossi could feel the panic setting in.
Jack stepped closer, smiling and tapping his glass against Rossi's. "You're right there, Vince. It's time everyone knows who's in charge." Turning toward Garth, he smiled and tipped his head slightly. "He's yours!"
Garth moved toward Rossi, but he jerked away. "Jack, what's going on here? Haven't I always been there for you?"
"I thought so until I learned how you've been making deals and racking up points with the powers to be. I'm afraid John Doyle's shoes were too big for you."
"Jack, I've done all this for you to widen your reach."
"I doubt that, but regardless, we don't cross over into our neighbor's backyard. These people are Frank's family."
"But Doyle —"
"Another one who forgot who was in charge. He's about to learn a lesson or two. Maybe you two can study together while rotting in a jail cell."
Rossi screamed, "You can't do this to me. I've got men —" He reached the door and swung it open, finding two of his henchmen standing in the hallway, blocking his escape. "Hank! Terrence! Don't let them do this."
Neither man made a move as the gravity of the situation sank into Rossi's head.
Lexington signaled to Frankie, who nodded toward the two guards. "Sorry, Vince. It's already done."
Rossi struggled and screamed as Garth approached, clamping the handcuffs on Rossi's wrists. His curses echoed down the hallway as he was taken away, his protests growing fainter with each step.
Jack drank the last of his champagne and turned back to Frank. "Now, where were we?"
Frankie cleared his throat and walked toward the large portrait on the wall. With a subtle press of a hidden button, the portrait swung open to reveal a small safe. The soft click of the lock echoed as he turned the dial and pulled the door open.
Inside, resting on black velvet, was a pouch tied with a thin gold cord. Frankie removed the tie, his expression unreadable as he faced the group.
"I know what you're all thinking," he began, his voice steady. "Doyle. Everyone thought he had them — that the diamonds were the key to his power in prison." Frankie's gaze moved to Eleanor, lingering momentarily before landing on Jack. "But they weren't. I had them. I've always had them."
Eleanor gasped, her hand rising instinctively to her chest. Even Garth, ordinarily calm, shifted uneasily in his seat before questioning Frank. "Then why let Doyle use them to gain power?"
"His games inside prison didn't mean anything to me until he stepped over the line." Frank's eyes were filled with sadness as he glanced at Eleanor. "If I had known —"
She shook her head. "Even I didn't foresee the future and how evil he could be. None of us did. It's not your fault, Frankie."
Jack sets his glass down. "Why keep them, Frank? You could've traded them for peace, power — hell, anything you wanted."
"At first, it was amusing to watch everyone scrambling to figure out where they were and how they could convince Doyle to surrender them, something he couldn't possibly do."
"Then why part with them now? You knew I would take Rossi down in time."
Frankie smiled and untied the pouch, pouring the diamonds into his hand. "Because some things are worth more than money or power." He rolled the gems around, watching them glitter. "Like saving a friend's life."
Jack's brow furrowed as Frankie stepped closer, holding out the diamonds. "They're yours, Jack."
Jack hesitated, then accepted the pouch, his fingers brushing over the cool, sharp edges of the stones.
Frankie's tone softened as he added, "I've been holding onto these for too long, waiting for the right moment. But now — I think it's time they served a better purpose."
Jack studied the diamonds, his mind working, before plucking a flawless stone from the pouch. He turned to Eleanor, his expression uncharacteristically warm. "For Margaret."
Eleanor's eyes widened, her hand trembling as she accepted the gem. "Jack — I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Jack replied. "Just make sure she knows where it came from — and why."
Frankie refilled the glasses, raising his to propose a toast. "To new beginnings."
 Recognized |
Eleanor - ghost detective
Jenna - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, and falling in love with Donatelli
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie)
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge and current inmate at Joliet State Prison
Vince Rossi - mob lawyer
Danni - jr. ghost detective working with Donatelli
Rebecca - new girl in town and Jenna's assistant
William - highly skilled crook
Miriam - a spirit from days gone by
Phillip Henderson - Attorney - Wills and Trusts
Bruiser - the bouncer at the Hideway
Tony - the bartender
Crystal - the cocktail waitress
Trevor Cascio - deceased owner of the estate
Owen Maxwell - special prosecutor
Joseph DeLuca - detective
Jason DeLuca - retired detective
Frank DiVito - retired gangster and childhood friend of Garth
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Jenna - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, and falling in love with Donatelli
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie)
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge and current inmate at Joliet State Prison
Vince Rossi - mob lawyer
Danni - jr. ghost detective working with Donatelli
Rebecca - new girl in town and Jenna's assistant
William - highly skilled crook
Miriam - a spirit from days gone by
Phillip Henderson - Attorney - Wills and Trusts
Bruiser - the bouncer at the Hideway
Tony - the bartender
Crystal - the cocktail waitress
Trevor Cascio - deceased owner of the estate
Owen Maxwell - special prosecutor
Joseph DeLuca - detective
Jason DeLuca - retired detective
Frank DiVito - retired gangster and childhood friend of Garth
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
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