Chapter 7 - The South Boston Reckoning
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The damp chill of the subterranean basement in South Boston smelled of salt water, motor oil, and absolute terror.
A single bare incandescent bulb swung gently from a rusted conduit overhead, casting erratic shadows across the concrete floor.
Tied to a heavy wooden chair in the center of the room sat Dr. Arthur Vance.
The retired physician’s expensive wool overcoat was torn at the shoulder, and his wire-rimmed glasses hung crookedly on his sweat-slicked nose.
Carmine stood in the dark corner by the iron door, cleaning his fingernails with a silver pocketknife.
The heavy metal door groaned on its hinges as Anias stepped down the concrete steps into the basement.
He had returned to his armor: an immaculate three-piece charcoal suit, a black silk tie, and Italian leather oxfords that clicked rhythmically against the stone.
His face was an unreadable mask of cold marble.
Dr. Vance flinched at the sound of the footsteps, his breathing turning into shallow, frantic gasps.
“Please, Don Moretti!” Vance blubbered, saliva spraying from his trembling lips.
“I am a retired man! I have no money, I swear to God I have nothing you could possibly want!”
Anias stopped two paces in front of the bound physician, looking down at him with eyes devoid of any human warmth.
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a yellowed, folded piece of paper—the clinic record from five years ago.
He unfolded it slowly, the crisp sound echoing in the underground chamber.
“Five years ago, Doctor,” Anias said, his voice terrifyingly quiet.
“You signed your name to this document.”
“You certified that Nancy Cooper was admitted to your private facility on October twelfth and that she underwent a surgical termination of her pregnancy.”
Vance’s face transformed from pale to a sickening, ghastly gray.
The doctor began to tremble so violently that the wooden chair rattled against the floor.
“I... I was following medical protocol, Don Moretti,” Vance stuttered, avoiding Anias’s lethal gaze.
Anias did not raise his voice.
He took half a step forward, leaning down until his lips were inches from the trembling doctor’s ear.
“My son is four years old, Doctor,” Anias whispered, every word dripping with venomous clarity.
“He has his mother’s smile and my grandfather’s name.”
“He is alive and healthy, which means this piece of paper was a death warrant signed in ink to rob me of my only child.”
Vance let out a strangled sob, realizing that the lie that had made him wealthy had finally collapsed.
“It wasn’t my idea!” Vance screamed, breaking down completely into hysterical weeping.
“I swear by the Holy Mother, it wasn’t my idea!”
Anias stood back up, straightening his cuffs with methodical precision.
“Give me the name, Vance,” Anias said softly.
“And if you lie to me by so much as a syllable, Carmine will ensure that you spend the rest of your short life learning what real pain feels like.”
“Mateo!” Vance cried out, the name tearing from his chest in desperate surrender.
“It was Mateo Moretti!”
“He brought me fifty thousand dollars in cash and a forged intake form with her signature already on it!”
“He told me if I didn’t register the procedure in the clinic archives and sign the final discharge slip, he would execute my daughter and her newborn twins!”
“He told me Nancy was already being taken out of the state on a bus, and that the boss wanted a clean paper trail to finalize the divorce!”
Carmine looked up from his knife, his jaw tightening with cold disgust at the revelation of the cousin’s treachery.
Anias stood motionless under the swinging lightbulb, his hands resting easily in his trouser pockets.
His cousin had not just committed treason against the syndicate.
Mateo had stolen five years of his son’s laughter.
“Carmine,” Anias said calmly, turning his back on the weeping doctor.
“Boss?”
“Keep Dr. Vance in this room, fed and unharmed,” Anias ordered as he climbed the first step toward the street.
“We will need his testimony before the family commission tonight.”
“And Mateo?” Carmine asked.
May you like
Anias paused on the landing, the cold morning wind rushing down from the opened door above.
“Mateo will learn what happens when a scavenger attempts to rob a wolf’s den.”
