Chapter 6 - THE PATRIARCH'S THREAT
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At precisely four-fifteen in the morning, the secure satellite phone on Luca’s desk began to vibrate violently.
The caller ID displayed an encrypted number originating from the Bellini family compound in Lake Forest.
Luca motioned for silence, clicked the speaker button, and leaned his hands heavily on the polished mahogany desk.
“Luca,” a raspy, gravelly voice echoed through the high-ceilinged room.
Salvatore Bellini sounded relaxed, exuding the smug confidence of a man who believed he held the entire city by the throat.
“Salvatore,” Luca answered, his voice completely stripped of emotion.
“My daughter hasn't answered her phone tonight, Luca.”
“She had an agreement to update me after your little charity dinner.”
“I assume you two didn't have a marital spat over some trivial household nonsense, did you?”
Luca picked up the brass key from his father’s safe, turning it over between his calloused fingers.
“Vanessa is currently resting in the basement, Salvatore.”
“On a cot next to the old vegetable bins where she belongs.”
The other end of the line went dead silent for five agonizing seconds.
When Salvatore spoke again, the faux warmth was completely gone, replaced by a venomous hiss.
“You listen to me, you arrogant little bastard.”
“You might sit in your father’s chair, but you don't possess a tenth of his brains or his courage.”
“If you lay a single finger on my daughter, I will burn your shipping lanes from Gary to Milwaukee.”
Luca let out a dark, mocking chuckle that sent a visible shiver through the room.
“My father had plenty of courage, Salvatore.”
“His only mistake was trusting a sewer rat who smiled at his dinner table while stealing the bread from his staff’s mouths.”
“I have the ledgers, Salvatore.”
“I have the Cayman account numbers, the forged powers of attorney, and the audio tapes my father recorded before you drove him to his grave.”
A sharp intake of breath hissed over the speaker phone.
Salvatore tried to recover his composure, his voice rising in defensive anger.
“Your father had an enlarged heart, Luca!”
“The coroner signed the death certificate, and that case is closed!”
“The coroner was paid four hundred thousand dollars through Vance Holdings three days after the funeral,” Luca countered coldly.
“I have the wire transfer confirmation sitting directly in front of me.”
“And Teresa Romano has the key that unlocks the rest of your grave.”
Salvatore slammed his fist against a table on his end of the line.
“That old cook is a lying peasant who should have been buried in an unmarked grave forty years ago!”
Luca’s jaw clenched so hard that the muscles in his cheek twitched violently.
“Every word you speak against that woman adds another year to your prison sentence and another bullet to your casket, Salvatore.”
“Here is my ultimatum to you.”
“Be at the Moretti family dock warehouse at eight o'clock tonight.”
“Come alone, or bring your entire private army—it makes no difference to me.”
“Because tonight, the Bellini name is erased from this city forever.”
Luca disconnected the call before Salvatore could utter another threat.
He looked across the room at Matteo, whose eyes were glowing with fierce anticipation.
“Prepare the armory, Matteo.”
May you like
“And make sure the old people have warm blankets when they arrive.”
“Justice starts with protecting those who built us.”
