Chapter 17 - The Manhattan Standoff
The live broadcast showed rows of heavily armed federal tactical vehicles rolling down Fifth Avenue, sirens wailing, civilian traffic scattering in panic. Deputy Attorney General Harrison stood before a bank of microphones on the steps of the federal courthouse in lower Manhattan, his face flushed with righteous fury as he pointed directly at the Moretti name.
“Effective immediately,” Harrison announced to the sea of reporters, “the federal government has declared the Moretti syndicate and its associates as domestic security threats. Warrants are out for the immediate arrest of Dante Moretti and Sophie Vance under charges of treason and conspiracy.”
In the quiet study of the Riverdale estate, the television audio hummed with the angry murmurs of reporters shouting questions.
Dante didn’t even flinch. He watched the screen with absolute, glacial calm, his hand still resting gently over mine.
“He’s panicking,” Dante said, a cold smile touching the corner of his lips. “By taking this public, Harrison just backed himself into a corner. He bypassed standard protocol because he knows the documents are already en route to the independent press.”
“If those tactical teams reach the estate before the journalists publish the files, they’ll raid the house and seize everything,” I said, my heart pounding against my ribs.
“They won't reach the house,” Dante replied smoothly. He reached for his encrypted satellite phone, tapping a single preset speed-dial number. “Marcus? Execute Protocol Omega. Shut down all local grid access to Riverdale, reroute civil traffic, and notify our contacts at the Associated Press that the Zurich archive is fully live.”
A heavy, low rumble vibrated through the stone foundations of the estate as the automated defensive barriers—reinforced steel gates embedded deep into the tree-lined perimeter road—slid upward into place, cutting off the access lanes entirely.
Outside, the distant wail of federal sirens grew louder, converging on the northern gates.
“Sophie,” Dante said, turning his full attention back to me. His expression was intensely serious, stripped of all mafia bravado, leaving only the raw, protective instinct of a man who cared deeply. “I need you to take Danny and Luca down to the subterranean safe room. My security detail will escort you through the private exit leading to the river tunnel. A boat is waiting at the dock to take you upstate.”
I pulled my hand away from his, shaking my head firmly. “No. I’m not running, Dante. I didn’t run when the Belluccis attacked, and I’m not running from federal thugs who sold their souls to cover up my father’s murder.”
“This isn’t about running,” Dante said, his voice dropping into an authoritative register that brooked no argument. “This is about leverage. If Harrison captures you, he holds the only living witness who can authenticate your father’s ledger. I can hold the estate against a federal siege, but I can’t protect you if you’re in the crossfire.”
Before I could argue further, the heavy oak door of the study burst open. The lead security chief rushed in, breathless and bleeding from a graze on his temple.
“Boss! They breached the outer gate using an armored tactical battering ram! There are at least two dozen federal agents in riot gear pushing up the main drive!”
Dante drew his Sig Sauer pistol with blinding speed, his eyes locking onto mine one last time.
“Go, Sophie,” he commanded softly.
He leaned in, pressing a brief, fierce kiss against my forehead before turning toward the door.
May you like
As he stepped out into the hallway to meet the oncoming storm, I didn't run to the safe room. I grabbed the encrypted flash drive from the mahogany table, slipped it safely into my pocket, and sprinted down the private corridor toward the medical wing to find Danny and Luca.
***
