Chapter 11 - the shadow of chicago
The morning sun broke over Manhattan, casting golden light across Victor’s master study.
Celeste sat in a heavy leather chair across from Victor’s desk, her hands cuffed, two federal marshals standing at the door waiting to transfer her to a maximum-security facility.
Victor leaned across his desk, holding the hospital wristband in his hand. "Talk, Celeste. What brother?"
Celeste looked up, her fair skin pale, her bruised cheek fading to a dark purple. Yet her eyes burned with bitter satisfaction.
"Ten years ago, when the hospital fire happened," Celeste said softly, "Elena didn't just give birth to Maya. She was carrying twins."
Victor’s hand tightened into a fist. "Where is the boy?"
"The Chicago syndicate took him the night of the fire," Celeste revealed, a cold smile touching her lips. "They raised him in secret to use as leverage against you if you ever tried to expand your shipping routes into Illinois."
"Who in Chicago?" Victor demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.
"The head of the syndicate," Celeste sneered. "A man named Vincent Moretti... your father's exiled brother."
Victor stood up slowly, the pieces of the ten-year puzzle finally locking into place. The financial transfers, the Chicago bank accounts, Elena’s sudden disappearance—it wasn't just a rival family coup; it was an internal family war orchestrated by his own bloodline in Chicago.
"Take her away," Victor ordered the marshals.
May you like
Celeste was led out in handcuffs, her laughter echoing down the hallway.
Victor turned to Marco. "Get my father's old private ledger from the vault. It's time to end this."
