Chapter 4 - THE SNAKE IN THE GRASS
The storm arrived faster than anticipated.
By noon the next day, Luca's war room was buzzing with chaotic energy. Marco had spent the morning tapping into the organization's intelligence network. The news was grim. Don Alberto had noticed Luca’s sudden disappearance from the Harrington Hotel. Worse, Vanessa Sinclair had indeed spoken to Alberto.
"She told him everything she saw," Marco explained, projecting security footage onto the large screen at the end of the oak table. The grainy footage showed Vanessa whispering into Alberto’s ear, pointing toward the terrace doors. "She recognized the catering uniform. She ran a background check on the catering company through her father's firm. By 3:00 AM, Alberto’s men were tearing through Elena's apartment in Queens."
Luca’s jaw clenched so tight he felt his teeth might crack. "Did they find anything?"
"No. She packed light. But Alberto is no fool. He knows the timeline. He saw the kid, Luca. Word is spreading through the underbosses. Alberto is calling an emergency meeting of the Commission. He's spinning a narrative that you are unstable, that you abandoned an alliance with the Sinclair family for a commoner, bringing shame to the syndicate."
"He's trying to force a vote of no confidence," Luca deduced, staring at the map of New York territories on the wall. "If the Commission votes me out, I lose my protection. I become a rogue target."
"And Alberto slides right into the boss's chair," Marco finished grimly. "With Silvio as his right hand."
Luca leaned over the table, his mind racing through strategies. He had spent years modernizing the Moretti family, moving them away from street violence and into corporate espionage, legitimate real estate, and digital security. He had made the older generation incredibly rich, but men like Alberto still craved the blood and fear of the old days.
"We need proof," Luca said. "Proof that Alberto ordered the threat on Elena and my son six years ago. The Commission values bloodlines above all else. If I can prove Alberto threatened a Moretti heir, they will sanction his execution, not mine."
"Finding proof from six years ago will be nearly impossible," Marco warned. "Silvio leaves no paper trails."
"Everyone leaves a trail," Luca countered. "Silvio is a gambler. He loves the high-stakes underground games in Atlantic City. I want you to find his current bookie. Buy his debts. Squeeze the bookie until he gives us leverage. Then, we take Silvio alive."
While Marco dispatched the teams, Luca walked back upstairs. He found Elena and Noah in the grand library. Noah was sprawled on the Persian rug, drawing a massive, complex bridge using charcoal pencils, while Elena read a book nearby, keeping a watchful eye.
Noah looked up as Luca entered. Those storm-cloud gray eyes locked onto him. "Are you the boss of this castle?" the boy asked.
Luca smiled faintly, sitting on the floor across from his son. "It's not exactly a castle. But yes, I am in charge here."
"My mom says you have important work. Dangerous work." Noah scrutinized Luca's face. "Are bad men coming for us?"
Luca glanced at Elena, who held her breath. He decided not to lie to the boy. "There are some men who want to cause trouble, yes. But they won't get through the gates. I promise you, Noah, no one will ever hurt you or your mother again."
May you like
Noah seemed to weigh the promise. He then pushed his drawing across the rug. "This is a suspension bridge. It distributes the weight so it doesn't collapse under pressure. You can keep it. So you remember to be strong."
Luca took the drawing, his hands trembling slightly. "Thank you, Noah. I will put it on my desk." He looked at Elena, his heart aching with a profound, consuming love that had never faded. He would kill every man in New York before he let them touch a hair on their heads.
