Chapter 4 - Resurrection and Ruin
The pews erupted into a chaotic murmur of shock and terror. Men instinctively reached into their jackets for firearms, but before a single weapon could be cleared, thirty heavily armed men—Vittorio’s loyalist enforcers, led by Marco—flooded the side entrances of the church, their submachine guns raised and aimed squarely at the congregation.
"Please, continue," Vittorio said, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings as he reached the altar. He looked at the closed casket, then turned his gaze down to his wife. "I must admit, Isabella, the flowers are a bit much. Calla lilies? You know I always preferred red roses."
Matteo Rossi stood up, his hand darting toward his waist, but Vittorio was faster. In a movement blur of pure instinct, Vittorio drew his Beretta and fired a single shot. The bullet shattered Matteo’s right kneecap. The young Calabrian collapsed onto the altar steps, screaming in agony, his blood staining the white marble.
Isabella stumbled backward, knocking over a heavy brass candelabra. "Vittorio... how... you were in the car... I saw it explode..."
"You saw what you wanted to see," Vittorio said smoothly, stepping over the writhing Matteo to stand directly in front of his wife. He reached out and gently lifted her black lace veil, exposing her trembling, terrified face to the entire underworld elite. "You forgot that an empire is built on details, Isabella. You noticed the timing, the routes, the explosives. But you failed to notice the eyes that watch from the shadows."
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He turned to the congregation, his voice commanding absolute authority. "The Rossi family has violated the treaty. Isabella Morelli has committed high treason against the crown of Naples. Anyone who stands with them dies today. Anyone who sits down remains part of the future."
In unison, every single capo and boss in the pews sat back down, lowering their heads in submission. Isabella was utterly, completely alone.
