Chapter 3 - THE MEN IN THE SHADOWS
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The rain had begun to pelt against the tall arched windows of the ballroom in violent, erratic sheets.
Nobody at the banquet table moved a single finger.
Socialites, politicians, and district capos sat frozen in their seats, staring at the cold plates before them.
The heavy thud of tactical combat boots echoed down the marble hallway outside the dining room.
Marco, the head of Moretti security, entered the room pushing two men forward by their jacket collars.
The two men were dressed in dark leather coats, their faces bruised, their wrists bound with heavy plastic zip-ties.
They were thrown roughly onto their knees on the hardwood floor right before Luca’s chair.
One of them had a bloody lip, while the other kept his eyes glued to the carpet, shivering from the cold lake wind.
Michael stepped closer, his jaw clenching as he recognized the men.
“Those are Bellini dock enforcers,” Michael spat, his voice shaking with venom.
“They run security at Salvatore’s southern pier.”
Luca stepped around the table, standing over the two kneeling men like an executioner awaiting his cue.
He reached down, grabbed the first man by the collar of his shirt, and hauled him upward until their faces were inches apart.
“Who gave you the contract tonight?” Luca asked, his voice dead, flat, and chillingly devoid of emotion.
The man swallowed hard, spitting a mouthful of red saliva onto his own lapels.
“We were just hired to drive the kid to O’Hare, boss,” the man gasped, his eyes darting toward Salvatore Bellini.
“We swear on our mothers, we were just told to put him on a private plane to Mexico!”
Luca’s grip tightened until the fabric of the man’s shirt began to rip at the seams.
“Marco,” Luca said softly without turning his head.
“What was found in the trunk of their sedan?”
Marco stepped forward, tossing a heavy nylon duffel bag onto the marble floor.
The zipper gave way as it landed, spilling its contents across the Persian rug for every guest to see.
Two pairs of heavy steel handcuffs clattered against the wood.
Beside them lay three rolls of industrial duct tape, a bottle of chloroform, and two unmarked handguns fitted with long suppressors.
A woman seated beside Carlo Vitale let out a muffled shriek of pure horror.
Michael backed away, his hand flying to his throat, the blood draining completely from his face.
They hadn't been hired to escort him to an airport.
They had been hired to take him to an abandoned quarry, put a bullet in his skull, and dump his body where the lake was deepest.
With Michael dead, his half of the family restaurant would have automatically defaulted to his legal heirs.
And with Vanessa married to Luca on Saturday, the entire Moretti estate would have been swallowed by the Bellini bankruptcy.
Luca released the man’s collar, letting him drop back to the floor like a sack of wet flour.
He turned his head slowly, looking at Salvatore Bellini, who had sunk back into his chair like a deflated corpse.
“A private plane to Mexico, Salvatore?” Luca asked, his voice vibrating through the crystal chandeliers.
“With suppressors and chloroform?”
Salvatore could not speak; his lips moved silently, his hands trembling so violently he couldn't hold his water glass.
Vanessa dropped to her knees on the floor, her red silk gown soaking in the puddle of spilled wine.
“Luca, please! It was my father’s idea!” she shrieked, crawling toward his polished shoes.
“He told me it was the only way to save our bloodline!”
“I love you, Luca! I swear to God I love you!”
Luca took a deliberate step backward, pulling his feet away from her grasping, manicured fingers as if she were a venomous snake.
He looked down at her with an expression of absolute, unadulterated revulsion.
“You don't know what love is, Vanessa,” Luca said softly.
“You are a parasite that tried to eat my family from the inside out.”
He raised his eyes, looking across the vast room at the fifty silent guests who had come to celebrate his engagement.
“The wedding is canceled,” Luca announced to the room, each word falling like a granite slab.
“The engagement is void.”
“And the Bellini family has until midnight to surrender all port licenses in the state of Illinois.”
He looked down at Marco.
“Take these two animals and Miss Bellini down to the subterranean holding suites.”
May you like
“Strip her of her jewelry, her phone, and her shoes.”
“If she screams again, gag her.”
