Page 210 of Fall Before Her Throne

I was supposed to be the sacrificial pawn. This was how I could prove to her—to all of them—that I meant what I said about being part of this family. I swore to her, on my knees, that I’d earn my redemption. This was how.

“If this were the case, what would you need from me to prove it?”

“Your sworn testimony as to his orders, the connections between him and mafia members, and the scope of his racketeering,” she answered.

“And what do I get in return?” I leaned back in my chair, eyeing them both. “Immunity?”

“Fuck, no,” Greer said with a choked laugh. “No fucking way⁠—”

“Greer,” Badawi interrupted. “Why don’t you go grab some water? I can tell Mr. Volpe is thirsty.”

Greer leveled his eyes at her. “What do you think you’re doing, Farrah?”

I coughed into my hand. “No, please, Special Agent. I am really thirsty. I think I’d talk a lot better if I had a cup of water.”

Greer huffed and stood, muttering about how he always had to be the errand boy. When the door shut behind him, I immediately turned to Badawi.

“She wants to take the fall, doesn’t she?” My eyes flicked across her face, trying to read her. “You’ve spoken to her.”

Badawi gave me a tight nod. “She’s insisting, but with the amount of evidence we have against you, this is the better play. I figured we needed to speak. I’m taking a gamble being here, Volpe. What do you want to do?”

Luciano had already been snitching about me. If Leona tried to spin the narrative and take the fall, it was way less believable.

But if I testified against Greco?

Now that was testimony that would stick.

“Your testimony would make it clear who was involved,” Badawi said carefully. “And who wasn’t involved. I just want to make sure our case puts the right people in prison.”

There it was.

That was all I needed.

“Okay.” I sat back in the chair just as Greer came back into the room. He sassily put a cup of water in front of me. I left it untouched. “I’ll testify.”

Greer sat back in his chair with a snort. “Oh, yeah? That easily?”

Badawi pulled out a small recording device and turned it on. She gave me a nod.

“You’re correct,” I said loudly so the recorder could pick it up. “Piero Greco is the true Head of the mafia, and I’ve been reporting to him for years. He’s behind the gun smuggling, the illegal gambling, and the drug production. Luciano Vero was reporting to him as well, same with Giuseppe Sandrini.”

I left out Leona and Enzo Rossi.

The corner of Badawi’s mouth perked up while she scribbled a note into a notebook.

“What about Leona Vero?” Greer asked, drumming his fingers on the table. “We have plenty of evidence to suggest she’s walking in her father’s footsteps.”

I shook my head. “No, Leona was always kept out of the Family. The only thing she’s involved in is the legitimate construction business, Vero Construction, Inc.”

“We’ve interviewed Miss Vero ourselves,” Badawi said. “She’s mentioned before that she had no idea what her father was doing. She’s also said that you weren’t involved, either.”

“Leona has always been well-intentioned,” I hedged. “Her father and I hid everything we were doing from her, including the knowledge that Greco was in charge behind the scenes.”

“Do you have any evidence of this?” Greer asked. “How do we know you’re not just selling him out to save your own skin?”

A smile pulled at my lips.

Luciano had tried to fuck me over, but he’d actually done all of us a massive favor. Years and years of records detailing the smuggling operations between Italy and New York. Decades of constant communication with the Camorra. Combined, all of it could prove that Greco had been in charge the entire time—through the tainted drugs, to the trafficking, to the smuggling.