Chapter 8 - THE FEDERAL RAID
The blinding white spotlights from the FBI helicopters swept through the trees, casting long, frantic shadows across the muddy ground. “Get down!” Luca ordered, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the cabin windows. We crouched behind the dilapidated wood stove. Outside, the deafening roar of the rotors masked the sound of boots hitting the ground. “Why are the feds here?” I asked, panic clawing at my throat. “Did Carlo call them?”
“No,” Luca said, his jaw clenched tight. “Vanessa did. When she realized Dominic was betraying her, and Carlo was betraying everyone, she must have triggered the federal raid. She knew about the family’s safe houses. She knew about the airstrip.” Answer One, Open Two. Vanessa had played her final, desperate card to ensure that if she went down, the entire Moretti family went down with her. But what were the feds looking for? “The ledger,” I gasped, realizing my mistake.
When I had hit Carlo with the heavy leather book at the airstrip, I had dropped it on the tarmac to run to Sophie. “If the FBI finds that ledger, my mother dies in a federal prison,” Luca said quietly, the weight of the mafia empire crushing his shoulders. “It has decades of payouts, bribes, and illegal holdings. Stuff my father did. Stuff Dominic did. I’ve spent five years trying to legitimize this family, trying to wash the blood off our money, but that book is a death sentence.”
A megaphone crackled outside. “LUCA MORETTI! THIS IS THE FBI. THE PERIMETER IS SURROUNDED. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS RAISED!” Luca looked at me. The ruthless mafia boss was gone. In his place was a man who knew he had lost. “Hannah,” he said softly, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a thick wad of cash—thousands of dollars—and pressed it into my hands. “When we walk out there, tell them I kidnapped you. Tell them I forced you into the car. The money will pay for your mother’s apartment. You’re a good person. Don’t let my family’s sins ruin your life.”
Tears streamed down my face. He was sacrificing himself to save me. “I won’t lie for you,” I wept. “I won’t leave you.” “You have to,” he whispered, his thumb gently wiping a tear from my cheek. He stood up, raising his empty hands, and kicked open the broken cabin door. I followed him out into the blinding lights. Dozens of heavily armed agents surrounded us, laser sights dancing across Luca’s chest. They threw him against the muddy ground, handcuffing him brutally.
An agent grabbed me, wrapping a shock blanket around my shoulders. “Are you hurt, miss? Did he harm you?” “He saved my life,” I said fiercely, glaring at the agent.
They loaded us into separate armored vehicles and drove us back to the airstrip. When we arrived, the scene was pure chaos. The private jet was surrounded by police tape. Vanessa was sitting on the bumper of an ambulance, clutching her bandaged shoulder, wearing handcuffs. Carlo was being loaded into a federal transport van, unconscious. But the most terrifying sight was the lead FBI agent holding a plastic evidence bag. Inside the bag was the heavy, leather-bound ledger.
The agent walked over to Luca, who was standing by a cruiser, dripping wet and in chains. “Well, Mr. Moretti,” the agent smirked, holding up the book. “Looks like we finally have the keys to the kingdom. Wire fraud, racketeering, bribery. Your entire family is going away forever.” Luca closed his eyes, accepting his fate.
“Open it,” a voice called out from the darkness. Everyone turned. Dominic Moretti limped out from the shadows of the hangar. His leg was hastily bandaged, and he looked pale, but he was smiling a bitter, triumphant smile. “I said, open it, Agent,” Dominic repeated, leaning heavily against the hangar wall.
The agent frowned, unzipped the evidence bag, and flipped the heavy leather cover open. He stared at the first page. Then the second. He began flipping frantically through the thick book. The agent’s smug smile vanished, replaced by profound confusion. I craned my neck to see.
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The pages weren't filled with bank accounts or blackmail files. They were filled with children’s crayon drawings. Stick figures, clumsy rainbows, and misspelled words. Answer One, Open Two. The ledger was fake. Dominic looked at his older brother, a strange respect in his eyes. “You magnificent bastard, Luca. You didn't just hide the real ledger. You destroyed it, didn’t you?”
Luca opened his eyes, a slow, exhausted smirk forming on his lips. “I destroyed it five years ago, Dominic. The day I took over. I moved all our assets into legitimate charities and real estate. The Moretti family is clean. That book in the safe... that was just an old scrapbook Sophie made for me in kindergarten.”
