Chapter 6 - The Lion’s Wrath
The grand reception hall felt like a pressurized chamber waiting for a single spark. Silvio Moretti stood frozen in the center of the marble floor, three red laser targets pinned squarely against his chest, his hands trembling over his silver-headed cane.
His six bodyguards were completely stiff, their fingers hovering nervously near their holsters, knowing that if a single one of them twitched, the balcony snipers would turn them into Swiss cheese before they could draw an inch of steel.
“Lorenzo...” Silvio stammered, his earlier arrogance completely evaporating. “Listen to reason! We are businessmen! We can settle this! I... I can accept a financial settlement for Julian’s debt!”
I walked slowly over to the coffee table, picked up the photograph of Maria and Lily, and held it over the open flame of my lighter. The glossy paper caught fire instantly, curling into black ash that drifted down onto the marble floor.
“There is no settlement, Silvio,” I said, watching the ashes glow. “You made a fatal error the moment you put a price tag on my brother’s child.”
I looked at Marco on the balcony. “Disarm them.”
Within ten seconds, my security team swarmed the room from the side entrances, roughly stripping Silvio’s men of their weapons, tossing their pistols onto the rug with heavy clatters.
Silvio fell to his knees, his expensive suit crumpling against the cold stone floor. “Lorenzo! Please! We have decades of peace between our families! You can’t murder an elder of the commission!”
“I’m not going to murder you, Silvio,” I said, stepping right up to him, bending down so my face was inches from his panicked eyes. “Murder is what men do out of anger. What I am about to do to your organization is purely business.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, dialing a number on speakerphone.
“Dominic,” I spoke into the receiver.
“Yes, boss?” the voice of my chief financial operative answered immediately.
“Initiate Protocol Black on the Moretti Holdings portfolio,” I ordered smoothly. “Seize their shipping manifests in Rotterdam, execute the short-sell options on their offshore banking accounts, and release the federal tax evasion dossier to the State Attorney’s office.”
“Executing now, sir,” Dominic replied before the line went dead.
Silvio gasped, grabbing at his chest as if he were having a heart attack. “You... you’re destroying my empire!”
“In twenty-four hours, Silvio, you won't have a single dollar left to buy ammunition, let alone hire forty men to burn my estate,” I said coldly. “You are finished. You are a broke, powerless old man.”
I nodded to Marco. “Throw them off my land. If Silvio Moretti ever steps foot in this county again, feed him to the dogs.”
My guards grabbed Silvio and his men by their collars, hauling them out through the heavy double doors into the pouring rain like common trash.
The hall fell silent again.
I stood in the center of the grand room, adjusting my suit jacket. Pino walked over, bumping his head against my hand. I patted his neck, feeling the tension slowly leaving his powerful frame.
“Boss,” Marco said, walking down the marble staircase. “What about Renata? She’s still hiding in town at a motel near the highway, waiting for her payout from Moretti.”
My eyes narrowed into slits of dark, unforgiving steel.
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Renata had terrorized a four-year-old orphan, tried to ruin an innocent mother’s life, and then sold my family’s location to bloodthirsty mobsters.
“Bring her to the basement, Marco,” I whispered, my voice dripping with absolute malice. “It’s time she learned what happens to people who touch the Duca family.”
