Chapter 5 - Shadows at the Harbor
Downstairs in the private study, the smell of aged tobacco and expensive leather hung thick in the air.
Alessandro stood behind his grandfather’s walnut desk, his hands planted flat against the polished wood as he stared at the map spread out before him. Beside him stood Marco, his chief of security—a scarred, burly man who had fought alongside Alessandro through two mob wars.
“What do you have?” Alessandro demanded, his voice hard as iron.
“Vincent Romano didn't wait to hear Isabella’s side of the story,” Marco replied grimly, tapping a finger against the Red Hook shipping terminals marked in red ink. “Two hours ago, three of our cargo containers arriving from Rotterdam were seized by corrupt port inspectors on Romano’s payroll. They’re claiming contraband violations. It’s a direct provocation, boss.”
Alessandro didn't blink. “He wants to draw me out. He knows if I leave the estate to handle the harbor personally, my defenses here will be divided.”
“That’s not all,” Mr. Bruno added from the doorway, holding a silver tray with an embossed black envelope. “A courier just delivered this to the front gate. It is addressed to you, Don Alessandro. From Vincent Romano himself.”
Alessandro reached out, breaking the black wax seal. He unfolded the thick parchment and read the handwritten words:
*Alessandro,*
*A broken engagement is a matter between families. A stolen future is an act of war. You have insulted my daughter and broken our sacred pact for the sake of a common maid and a bastard child.*
*Tomorrow night, the Five Families are gathering at the Plaza Hotel for the annual Saint Michael’s Charity Gala. The Commission expects our union to be celebrated. If you do not appear with Isabella on your arm, publicly apologizing for this breach of respect, the Romano syndicate will consider the treaty void.*
*Every dock, every warehouse, and every street corner bearing your name will burn. Bring your bride, Alessandro. Or prepare your funeral.*
*— Vincent Romano*
Marco let out a low curse. “He’s using the Commission to corner you, boss. If you don't show up, you look weak to the other families. If you do show up without Isabella, they’ll see it as an unprovoked declaration of war.”
Alessandro crumpled the letter in his fist, tossing it into the unlit fireplace.
“Vincent thinks he is playing chess,” Alessandro said, a cold, predatory smile curling the edges of his mouth. “He thinks he holds all the pieces because he controls the Great Lakes routes. He forgets who built the empire he is trying to steal.”
“What are your orders, boss?” Marco asked, straightening up.
“Double the guard on the estate,” Alessandro commanded instantly. “Put four men on the third floor outside Rosa’s suite. Place snipers on the roof, twenty-four hours a day. No vehicle enters the gates without being searched from bumper to bumper.”
“And the gala tomorrow night?” Bruno inquired softly.
Alessandro walked over to the window, staring out at the rolling lawns leading toward the dark waters of the Hudson River.
“I will attend,” Alessandro replied smoothly. “The Five Families want a spectacle? I will give them one they will never forget. But I will not be bringing Isabella Romano.”
Marco frowned, confused. “Boss? If you go alone, the Commission will demand answers.”
“I won't be alone,” Alessandro said, turning back to face his men with an expression of lethal confidence. “I will be attending with the future Donna of the Moretti family.”
Marco’s eyes widened in shock. “Rosa? Boss, with all due respect, bringing Rosa to the Commission gala is like throwing a lamb into a den of wolves. The Romanos will tear her apart!”
“Rosa is no lamb,” Alessandro countered, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. “She raised my child alone in the shadows for three years without asking for a single dime of help. She has more courage in her little finger than Vincent Romano and his entire bloodline combined.”
He walked past Marco toward the door.
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“Have the city’s finest dressmakers brought to the estate within the hour,” Alessandro ordered. “And call my personal jeweler. It’s time New York learns who truly commands this city.”
***
