Chapter 6 - The Council of Wolves
By sunset, the tension inside the Moretti estate had curdled into open warfare.
The family council had been summoned. In the grand underground boardroom—a subterranean chamber lined with dark oak paneling, antique weapons, and heavy leather chairs—ten of the most powerful capos and elders of the syndicate sat in grim silence.
Adrian sat at the head of the long mahogany table, looking like an emperor holding court over a nest of vipers. Camille and the twins were secured in the master suite upstairs, guarded by Silas, Adrian's most lethal enforcer.
Marco stood near the center of the room, playing the role of the concerned statesman.
"We are businessmen, Adrian, not romantic novelists," one of the elders, an elderly man named Donato with deep wrinkles and sharp eyes, spoke up. "For five years, you kept your bloodline a secret to protect the family from vulnerability. Now, because of a grocery store brawl, half of Chicago knows you have a woman and two illegitimate heirs living in your fortress."
"They aren't illegitimate," Adrian said, his voice cutting through the smoky air of the room like a blade. "And they are under my direct protection. Anyone who has a problem with that can state it clearly right now."
Marco smiled, stepping forward. "Nobody is questioning your authority, Adrian. We are questioning your judgment. The girl—Willa—and her sister. And Camille Ashford herself. They are civilian liabilities. And as for the leak... if someone inside our ranks gave Travis the address, it proves that enemies are already testing your defenses through your new weakness."
Adrian stood up slowly. The sheer physical presence of the man commanded absolute silence in the room. He walked around the table until he stood directly in front of Marco.
"You talk about weaknesses, Marco," Adrian whispered, leaning in close. "You talk about leaks. It’s fascinating how quickly you knew about Travis, how fast you arrived at the conclusion that my family is a liability, and how eager you are to put them before the council."
Marco’s smile wavered for a split second before he recovered his composure. "Are you accusing me, Adrian? After everything I've done for the syndicate while you were busy playing ghost?"
Before Adrian could answer, the heavy double doors of the boardroom burst open.
Silas strode into the room, holding a secure military-grade tablet in his hand. He didn't look at the council elders; he walked straight up to Adrian and handed him the screen.
"We decrypted Travis’s burner phone from the precinct holding cell," Silas said clearly, his voice carrying across the silent chamber. "The last outgoing call before he walked into that supermarket wasn't to a friend. It was routed through an encrypted proxy server."
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Adrian looked down at the tablet. The routing logs, the IP addresses, the financial transfers—they all traced back to a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands.
A shell company owned by Marco Moretti.
