Chapter 5
Ten minutes later, the double doors clicked open again. Frank escorted Maria back into the study. In her trembling hands, Maria carried an ornate, antique silver box wrapped tightly in a faded blue velvet scarf.
She walked over to the desk with extreme caution, setting the object down onto the dark mahogany wood under the warm glow of the lamp. Caesar immediately stood up, walking over to the desk and sniffing the blue velvet scarf with intense, quiet reverence.
"This is it, sir," Maria whispered, stepping back beside her daughter.
Moretti stood up from his chair. His broad shoulders squared as he reached out his tattooed hands. Slowly, deliberately, he unwrapped the blue velvet scarf.
The silver box beneath was exquisite—hand-carved sterling silver featuring delicate floral patterns and a central crest depicting a rising falcon. Moretti recognized it instantly. It was the box their father had gifted to Luca on his sixteenth birthday.
Moretti reached for the small silver latch on the front. It opened with a sharp, clear click.
He lifted the heavy silver lid.
Inside lay three items: Luca's silver pocket watch, a small leather-bound notebook, and a sealed manila envelope stamped with an old Moretti syndicate wax seal.
Moretti picked up the leather notebook first. He opened the pages, recognizing Luca's neat, slanted handwriting instantly. The entries spanned the six months leading up to his death. As Moretti flipped through the pages, his dark eyes narrowed into slits of pure, lethal fury.
Luca had been investigating financial discrepancies within the family's shipping ports. He had discovered that Captain Victor Sabato was secretly funneling weapons, drugs, and millions of dollars in cash to an offshore syndicate based in New York—a syndicate led by a ruthless commander named Victor Bancroft. When Luca confronted Sabato with the proof, Sabato realized he was about to be exposed.
Moretti picked up the sealed manila envelope, breaking the wax seal with his thumb. Inside were original bank transfer receipts, signed shipping manifests, and a transcribed audio recording detailing Sabato's plan to orchestrate Luca's murder and frame Don Vincenzo to spark a war that would distract Moretti while Sabato consolidated power.
"Sabato," Moretti growled, his deep voice vibrating with such raw, terrifying fury that the candle flames on the desk flickered violently.
Frank stepped forward, his face pale with shock. "Boss... Sabato? He's been your right-hand captain for ten years!"
"He set up my brother," Moretti said, his sharp jawline locking like steel. "He let Luca die in that alleyway so he could keep his blood money flowing from New York."
Suddenly, the encrypted satellite phone resting on the mahogany desk began to chime with a sharp, high-priority emergency ringtone. The caller ID displayed an encrypted frequency originating from New York City.
Moretti picked up the receiver, pressing it to his ear. "Speak."
"Moretti, it's Dominic," came a deep, authoritative baritone over the line. Dominic Moretti was the leader of the New York branch of the syndicate network—a distant cousin who controlled the Eastern seaboard.
"Dominic," Moretti acknowledged, his voice deathly cold. "Why are you calling me on an emergency line on Halloween?"
"Because we have a situation in Manhattan that involves your family," Dominic reported grimly over the speaker. "An hour ago, at Ristorante Bellagio, my men intercepted a young waitress named Mara Bennett. She was carrying an heirloom pendant—the phoenix and serpent crest of your original bloodline."
Moretti’s breath caught in his throat. "Elena's daughter?"
"Yes," Dominic confirmed. "And ten minutes after we identified her, Victor Bancroft’s mercenaries hit the restaurant. They were trying to execute her and my infant son."
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Moretti looked at the documents on his desk—documents that explicitly linked Victor Sabato in Chicago to Victor Bancroft in New York.
"Bancroft and Sabato are working together, Dominic," Moretti stated, his dark eyes blazing with absolute, apocalyptic resolve. "They've been running a shadow war against our bloodline for ten years."
