Chapter 6 - THE PURGE OF THE FIVE BOROUGHS
With Isabella secured in isolation, Carmine Moretti neutralized, and Marcus handed over to federal authorities, Dominic and Victoria moved to execute the total purification of the Salvatore syndicate.
For seventy-two hours, the penthouse on Madison Avenue operated as a tactical war room. Victoria worked tirelessly, her fingers flying across multiple encrypted terminals, unraveling the complex web of shell corporations, crooked union bosses, and compromised city officials that Isabella had cultivated over seven years.
Dominic stood behind her, watching the numbers shift on the monitors. For years, he had governed his empire through sheer force of will, violence, and street loyalty. But Victoria operated in an entirely different dimension—one where a single altered decimal point could dismantle an entire rival syndicate without firing a shot.
“We have five corrupt city inspectors on Isabella’s payroll in Queens,” Victoria noted, pulling up a digital spreadsheet. “They were purposefully halting your construction permits to force you into emergency subcontracts with Moretti-aligned firms.”
“Fix it,” Dominic said softly, his hand resting casually on the back of her chair. His proximity was no longer merely professional; an undeniable, electric tension had grown between them over the past three days.
“Already done,” Victoria replied, turning her head to look up at him. “I redirected the municipal funding through a clean trust in Boston. The permits will clear by tomorrow morning. Your legitimate real estate developments are completely insulated.”
Dominic smiled—a rare, genuine expression that softened the harsh, angular lines of his face. “You do in five minutes what my legal team failed to do in three years.”
“Your legal team was paid to bill hours, Dominic,” Victoria said, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. “I was trained to survive.”
Before Dominic could respond, the private security intercom on his desk chimed. He pressed the speaker button. “Speak.”
“Boss, it’s Vincent,” the voice crackled through the high-end speaker. “Isabella is demanding to speak with you. She claims she has one final piece of information that will change your mind. She says it’s regarding your father’s death ten years ago.”
Dominic’s face darkened instantly. The warmth in the room evaporated, replaced by an aura of pure menace. His father, Antonio Salvatore, had died of a sudden, mysterious heart failure a decade prior—the event that had forced Dominic to take control of the family at the young age of twenty-four.
Dominic looked at Victoria. “Come with me.”
Twenty minutes later, their private elevator descended into the sub-basement of a fortified industrial compound in Queens. Behind a heavy steel security door sat Isabella Salvatore.
Stripped of her diamonds, her designer silk replaced by a plain gray tracksuit, Isabella looked completely broken. Yet, as Dominic and Victoria entered the interrogation room, a venomous, desperate spark flared in her bloodshot eyes.
“You think you’ve won, don't you?” Isabella sneered, her voice raspy and bitter. “You think this little server genius has solved everything for you, Dominic?”
Dominic took a seat across the stainless-steel table, folding his hands together. “You have three minutes, Isabella. What do you know about my father?”
Isabella let out a cruel, jagged laugh. “You spent ten years believing Antonio’s heart gave out from stress. But it wasn't stress, Dominic. It was digitalis. Slipped into his morning espresso over six months.”
Dominic did not flinch, but his knuckles turned white against the metal table. “Who ordered it?”
“My family,” Isabella hissed, leaning forward. “The DeLuca clan in Naples. We planned to dismantle the Salvatore bloodline from the inside out. My marriage to you was never about love or alliances—it was an occupation. And even now, my brother Lorenzo is en route from Naples with thirty specialized assassins to finish what I started.”
Victoria stepped forward, pulling a thin tablet from her jacket and turning the screen toward Isabella.
“Lorenzo DeLuca was intercepted at JFK Airport forty minutes ago by federal anti-terrorism units,” Victoria stated coldly. “I forwarded his international red-notice warrants from Interpol directly to Homeland Security three days ago. Lorenzo and his entire cell are currently in federal custody awaiting extradition to a high-security facility in Rome.”
Isabella’s jaw dropped in absolute horror. She stared at the screen, watching live surveillance footage of her brother being marched in handcuffs across the airport tarmac.
“You... you can't have known...” Isabella whispered, trembling violently.
May you like
“I know every flight manifest, every bank account, and every dirty secret attached to the DeLuca name,” Victoria said, her voice echoing with absolute finality. “Your family empire in Naples fell two hours ago. You are the last one standing, Isabella. And you have nowhere left to run.”
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