Chapter 4 - the shadow of thirty years
The private back room of the Velvet Lounge in downtown Chicago was thick with cigar smoke and the heavy, quiet tension of powerful men. Sitting around a long mahogany table were eight senior captains of the Moretti syndicate—men who had controlled the city's docks, casinos, and shipping lines for thirty years.
At the head of the table sat Victor Moretti—Nathan’s sixty-five-year-old uncle. Victor was a cold, arrogant man with slick grey hair, wearing an expensive pinstriped suit, holding a silver walking cane between his knees.
"Nathan is losing his mind!" Victor announced loudly to the gathered captains, slamming his fist onto the table. "He brought a common maid and a street child into the Lake Shore estate today! He used six armored cars to transport them! He is parading his personal weakness in front of our enemies!"
The older captains exchanged uneasy glances, but before anyone could reply, the heavy oak doors of the back room were kicked open!
Nathan Moretti stepped into the room.
His broad frame towered over the doorway, his black suit pristine, his broad hands resting casually in his trousers pockets. Standing behind him were twelve heavily armed enforcers clad in dark tactical gear, locking the exits in three seconds flat.
The entire room fell into dead silence.
Nathan walked slowly up the center of the room, his polished leather shoes striking the floorboards with deliberate, terrifying weight. He stopped right behind Victor's chair.
"Were you talking about my daughter, uncle?" Nathan asked, his deep voice carrying an icy, lethal calm that froze the air in the room.
Victor’s face flushed red with anger, though his eyes twitched with a subtle spark of fear. "She's an illegitimate street kid, Nathan! You have no proof she carries Moretti blood! And Sarah Bennett abandoned this family seven years ago!"
Nathan reached into his suit jacket, pulled out the silver key from the sewing machine, and tossed it onto the center of the mahogany table.
The silver key clattered against the wood, its engraved crest gleaming under the chandelier light.
The older captains gasped softly. Two of the eldest men at the table stood up instantly, staring at the key in absolute shock.
"That's... that's Don Isabella's key," Captain Carmine whispered, his voice trembling. "The key to the founding vault beneath Lake Shore Drive..."
"My mother gave this key to Sarah seven years ago," Nathan said, leaning down until his dark eyes were inches from Victor's face. "Because she knew my uncle Victor was trying to steal the family trust deeds."
Victor gripped his silver cane tightly, his jaw clenching. "That key means nothing! Your mother died of heart failure thirty years ago!"
"My mother was poisoned, Victor," Nathan growled, his voice dropping into a hollow, lethal whisper. "And the woman who protected her secret for thirty years was Sarah's mother."
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Victor’s eyes widened in sudden, panic-stricken horror.
Nathan stood up to his full height, looking over the gathered captains with unshakeable authority. "A formal blood court will assemble at the Lake Shore estate on Friday at midnight. I will present the contents of the founding vault. And if anyone challenges my daughter's bloodline before then... I will personally put a bullet through their head."
