Chapter 8 - MAFIA JUSTICE
The storm broke outside, rain lashing against the study windows.
Don Lucchese tried to negotiate. “Alessandro, think about this! You kill me, the Five Families will go to war. The Commission won't allow this!”
“The Commission has already been sent the video,” Alessandro replied coldly. “They do not sanction unauthorized hits on bosses, nor do they tolerate collateral damage against innocent women. You broke the rules, Lucchese. You are entirely alone.”
Marco made a desperate, suicidal lunge toward Alessandro. A single, muffled gunshot echoed in the room. Marco collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest, his eyes wide with shock as the life drained out of him. Alessandro didn't even flinch; his gun smoked slightly in his hand.
He turned his dead gaze to Don Lucchese. “Your empire is mine now. Your territories, your docks, your men. They report to the Moretti family as of midnight. If you argue, I will bury you next to Marco.”
Lucchese, a man who had commanded fear for forty years, trembled violently and nodded. He was a defeated king.
“And Isabella?” Lucchese asked, his voice cracking.
Alessandro looked at the sobbing woman on the floor. She had nearly killed Siena, but she was a pawn, a victim of the brutal men around her.
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“Take your children and leave the country, Isabella. If I ever see you in New York again, I will not be so merciful.”
As the guards dragged Marco’s body out of the room and escorted the broken Luccheses off the property, Alessandro finally lowered his weapon. The vengeance was exacted, the empire secured, but the true battle was yet to come. He had to face me.
