Chapter 8 - The Shadow King's Vengeance
Midnight arrived like a blanket of black velvet over the industrial district of the city.
Inside an abandoned brick warehouse near the river, the air was cold, damp, and smelled of rust and salt water. High-powered floodlights illuminated the center of the room, where a bruised, tied-up man sat bound to a heavy metal chair.
Victor Moretti, the mid-tier boss who had dared to attack the Romano estate, spat blood onto the concrete floor, cursing under his breath.
The heavy steel door groaned open.
Matteo walked into the warehouse, flanked by Marco and four armed men. He didn't carry a weapon. He didn't need one. His presence alone was enough to make the air in the room feel suffocating.
"Matteo," Victor sneered, coughing up blood. "You think you win because you caught me? My crew will tear your city apart! The Moretti family won't rest until every Romano is dead!"
Matteo walked slowly around the bound man, his footsteps echoing against the damp concrete floor. He stopped in front of Victor, looking down at him with dark, emotionless eyes.
"You attacked my home, Victor," Matteo said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "You scared my mother. And you put a gun in the face of the woman I intend to make my wife."
Victor stared at him, shocked. "Wife? That poor café girl? You're risking a full-scale war for a nobody?"
Matteo leaned down, grabbing Victor by his collar, lifting him slightly off the chair. The fury in Matteo’s eyes burned like white-hot iron.
"She is not a nobody," Matteo growled softly into his ear. "She is the only good thing in this miserable city. And you made the fatal mistake of threatening her life."
Matteo released the collar, pulling a pristine linen handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his fingers. He looked over at Marco.
"Hand over all the Moretti financial records to the Federal Prosecutor," Matteo ordered coldly. "Strip their accounts, seize their shipping lines, and make sure every politician they bought knows that supporting them means war with me."
"And Victor, Boss?" Marco asked.
Matteo didn't even look back as he turned toward the exit. "Put him on a boat to Sicily. Let my uncles handle him."
"No! Wait! Matteo! Let's talk!" Victor panicked, squirming against his ropes as the guards stepped forward. "We can make a deal! Matteo!"
Matteo walked out into the cool night air, ignoring the desperate screams echoing behind him.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Is she sleeping?" Matteo asked the moment the call connected.
"She is resting, sir," the guard at the penthouse reported politely. "She asked if you were coming back tonight."
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Matteo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the night air. The war was over. The city was under his control once again, safer than it had ever been.
"Tell her I'm on my way home," Matteo said quietly.
