Chapter 6 - The Unraveling
By Friday afternoon, the Moretti empire was no longer a syndicate; it was a crime scene.
Federal agents in windbreakers swarmed the loading docks in Brooklyn, hauling away hard drives, ledgers, and crates of unregistered merchandise. News helicopters hovered overhead, their camera lenses zooming in on the loading bays where Lucien Moretti had ruled supreme for two decades.
In the span of forty-eight hours, the untouchable man of Manhattan had become a headline.
Lucien sat in the back of his darkened town car two blocks away from the federal courthouse, watching the flashing blue lights reflect off the tinted windshield. His phone had stopped ringing hours ago—not because his associates were loyal, but because no one wanted to be associated with a sinking ship.
The passenger door opened sharply, and Marcus Vance slid into the leather seat beside him, closing the door against the autumn wind.
Lucien didn't flinch. He didn't reach for the gun tucked inside his shoulder holster. He simply turned his head and looked at Marcus with tired, bloodshot eyes.
"You've got a lot of nerve getting into this car, Marcus," Lucien said, his voice raspy.
"I'm just here to deliver a message," Marcus replied calmly, pulling a crisp, white envelope from his coat pocket and laying it on the console between them.
Lucien looked down at the envelope. It bore no return address, just his name written in clean, elegant handwriting.
"What is this?"
"Elena’s terms," Marcus said simply. "Divorce papers. Full custody of the child upon birth. Complete financial severance from the Moretti estate, leaving you with just enough personal assets to settle your remaining legal debts and clear the country before the federal indictments drop."
Lucien let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "And if I refuse to sign? If I fight her in court?"
Marcus looked him dead in the eye. "Then the federal prosecutor drops the remaining sealed indictments against you tomorrow morning, and you spend the next forty years in a maximum-security federal penitentiary. Elena isn't asking you to negotiate, Lucien. She’s giving you an exit."
Lucien reached out slowly, picking up the envelope. He pulled out the documents, his eyes scanning the dense legal text. Every asset he had spent his life accumulating—shipping lines, real estate holdings, offshore accounts—signed away with a few strokes of a pen.
May you like
"She really hates me that much," Lucien whispered, the words tasting like ash.
"She doesn't hate you, Lucien," Marcus said, his voice hardening as he opened the door to step back out into the rain. "Hate requires energy. You just became irrelevant."
