“August. August 23.”
“So he signed this loan agreement 2 months after he was already dead.”
Silence filled the office.
Vincent’s mouth opened, but no words came.
Rocco stood and walked slowly around the desk until he was behind Vincent’s chair.
“You forged a dead man’s signature to justify stealing from his widow and daughter.”
“Boss, I can explain—”
“You took furniture from a 7-year-old girl.”
Rocco placed a hand on Vincent’s shoulder.
“You left a grieving mother with no way to feed her child. You put bruises on that child’s arm.”
His voice remained calm, but the air in the room seemed to freeze.
“And you did it using my name.”
Vincent tried to turn around, but Rocco’s hand held him in place.
“How many other families?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“How many other forged documents? How many other dead husbands who mysteriously borrowed money from us? How many other children are going hungry because you decided to build your own empire?”
Vincent’s breathing quickened.
“Boss, you have to understand. These people… they’re nobodies. They don’t matter to the real business. I was just making extra money.”
“Wrong answer.”
Rocco tightened his grip.