Chapter 14 - the lion's wrath
The room was completely still.
The woman on the sofa slowly looked up. Her face was stunning, elegant, and devoid of any warmth. A faint, mocking smile touched her lips as she adjusted the blanket around Sofia.
“Hello, Lorenzo,” Clara Moretti said, her voice smooth like aged wine. “You always were too loud when you entered a room.”
Anthony Moretti took a fast step behind Clara’s sofa, his hand shaking as he reached for a chrome pistol resting on the marble side table.
“Don't touch that iron, Anthony,” Marco snarled, aiming his weapon directly between Anthony’s eyes. “Take your hand off the table, or I’ll paint that wall with your brains.”
Anthony froze, pulling his hands into the air, sweat dripping down his temple. “Lorenzo… listen to me. This wasn't my idea. She came to me six months ago! She told me you were losing your grip on the Commission!”
Lorenzo didn't look at Anthony. His entire existence was focused on the woman sitting on the couch—the wife he had mourned for three agonizing years.
“You faked the crash,” Lorenzo said, his voice dropping into a hollow, terrifying whisper. “The bridge. The burning car. The dental records. You made me bury an empty box while you watched from the shadows.”
“I had to leave, Lorenzo,” Clara replied, her tone completely calm, as if discussing the weather. “You were getting soft. You wanted peace with the other families. You wanted legitimate businesses, clean hotels, waterfront trusts. You were going to let eighty years of Moretti dominance turn into a corporate hedge fund.”
“So you partnered with Anthony?” Lorenzo asked, his jaw trembling with suppressed rage.
“Anthony is ambitious, but he’s weak,” Clara sneered, glancing back at the sweating cousin. “He was useful for moving the offshore accounts. Just like Agent Miller was useful for keeping your federal heat focused entirely on your docks while I prepared to take the family holdings back.”
Elena stepped out from behind Lorenzo, her eyes blazing as she looked at Clara.
“You put your own baby in a dumpster,” Elena said, her voice shaking with pure fury.
Clara’s cold gray eyes shifted to Elena, looking her up and down with open contempt. “And who is this? The maid who ruined a twenty-million-dollar extraction?”
“I’m the person who kept your child from freezing to death while you used her as a bargaining chip,” Elena fired back, stepping forward until Lorenzo placed a warning hand on her shoulder.
“Sofia was never meant to freeze,” Clara said dismissively. “Miller’s team was five minutes late to the rendezvous because of a traffic sweep. The alley was a temporary drop. A minor miscalculation.”
“A minor miscalculation?” Lorenzo stepped forward, his massive frame radiating absolute lethality. “You used our daughter as leverage to steal the family trust, Clara. You allied with the feds. You murdered Viktor.”
“Viktor discovered the transfers,” Clara said, without a trace of remorse. “He was loyal to you. He had to be removed.”
Clara stood up slowly, holding Sofia against her shoulder with one arm, while her other hand slipped inside her designer trench coat.
“It’s over, Lorenzo,” Clara said softly. “Agent Miller’s tactical team is already surrounding the hotel. In three minutes, they breach this suite. Anthony and I walk out with federal immunity as cooperating witnesses, and you spend the rest of your natural life in ADX Florence. Hand over the override codes for the Swiss accounts, and I’ll let you say goodbye to your daughter.”
Lorenzo didn't move. He didn't reach for his gun.
Instead, he looked at Marco.
“Marco,” Lorenzo said quietly. “Did you initiate the recording?”
Marco pulled a small, black military-grade transmitter from his breast pocket and tapped the screen. A green light flashed.
“Every word,” Marco said. “Broadcast live to the private encrypted frequency of the Five Families Commission and the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s internal affairs division.”
Clara’s calm facade shattered. Her eyes widened in genuine horror. “What?”
“Agent Miller isn't outside, Clara,” Lorenzo said, his voice dropping like an executioner’s blade. “Miller was arrested at his desk twenty minutes ago by federal internal affairs. Marco traded Anthony’s laundered dock ledgers for Miller’s badge an hour ago.”
Anthony let out a strangled cry and lunged for the side table.
*Bang.*
Marco fired once. The bullet struck Anthony’s shoulder, spinning him violently to the floor, where he collapsed, groaning in agony.
Clara gasped, stumbling backward against the panoramic window overlooking the city, clutching Sofia tighter against her chest.
May you like
“Stay back!” Clara screamed, her composure completely gone as she pulled a small ceramic blade from her coat sleeve. “Stay back, Lorenzo, or I swear to God—”
Before Clara could finish the threat, Elena moved.
