Chapter 5 - The Velvet Trap
The Saint Jude Cathedral stood atop the highest hill in the city, its twin stone spires piercing the dark, rain-heavy clouds of Friday evening.
Five hundred guests sat in the dark oak pews inside—mob bosses from New York, corrupt senators, international arms brokers, and high-society elites in glittering jewelry.
Outside, thirty armored SUVs lined the cobblestone courtyard.
I sat in the choir loft high above the altar, dressed in a discreet black silk dress, wearing a tactical earpiece hidden beneath my hair. From here, I had a bird’s-eye view of the entire cathedral—the long red carpet, the marble altar, and the heavy bronze entrance doors below.
Below me, Luca Moretti walked down the center aisle alone.
He was a vision of absolute, terrifying majesty.
The Vicuña suit fit him like a second skin. As he walked, the fabric moved effortlessly with his stride, draped with such flawless precision that no one in the room could have guessed he was wearing heavy-duty ballistic armor underneath. The silver boutonnieres pin flashed under the stained-glass windows.
Whispers rippled through the pews.
"Where is Vivien?" a New York boss muttered.
"I heard the Falcone alliance broke down," a woman in emeralds whispered back. "Why is he holding the ceremony?"
Luca reached the marble altar and turned around to face the congregation. He stood tall, his hands folded calmly in front of his waist, his face an unreadable mask of power.
Beside him stood Julian.
The old adviser wore a traditional navy morning coat, holding the gold ring box in his hands. He looked composed, but I noticed the subtle twitch in his left cheek—the nervous tic of a man waiting for a fuse to burn down.
"Radio check, Clara," Luca’s voice spoke smoothly through my earpiece.
"Clear, Luca," I replied softly into my hidden microphone. "Julian’s left coat pocket is bulging. He’s carrying a compact detonator transmitter."
"Has he realized the jammer is active?" Luca asked, not moving a muscle on the altar.
"No," I noted, watching Julian through a pair of compact opera binoculars. "He’s pressing the button inside his pocket every thirty seconds. He thinks the explosive charge he planted behind the altar screen is delayed."
"Good," Luca said. "Let him sweat."
Suddenly, the heavy bronze doors at the back of the cathedral burst open.
A dozen men in dark suits marched into the nave, their hands tucked inside their coats. At their head walked Don Carmine Falcone—Vivien’s uncle—his face pale with rage, accompanied by six heavy guards.
"Moretti!" Don Carmine’s voice boomed off the stone arches. "Where is my niece?!"
The congregation gasped. Hands reached under coats throughout the pews as fifty private security guards leveled their eyes on the intruders.
Luca didn't flinch. He took a single step down from the altar platform, looking down at the older man with cold disdain.
"Your niece is currently in federal custody, Carmine," Luca announced clearly, his voice echoing through the silent cathedral. "Along with her statements detailing your illegal land seizures in the South District."
Don Carmine froze. "What lies are you telling, you bastard?"
"They aren't lies, Carmine," Luca said.
He turned slowly toward Julian.
Julian took a step back, his face draining of all color. "Boss... what are you talking about?"
"Show them the silver pin, Julian," Luca commanded.
Julian’s hand flew out of his pocket, holding a small black remote control. He pressed the button frantically three times.
Nothing happened.
The silver boutonnieres pin on Luca's lapel emitted a low, imperceptible blue light, completely neutralizing the wireless frequency within fifty yards.
"Looking for the detonation trigger behind the altar, Julian?" Luca asked softly, walking right up to his old adviser. "Or perhaps the remote frequency for the sniper you placed on the bell tower roof?"
Julian realized he was trapped. His composure shattered. He pulled a silver snub-nosed revolver from his morning coat and pointed it directly at Luca’s chest from three feet away.
"You arrogant young fool!" Julian shrieked. "Your father should have given me the family thirty years ago! I built this empire while you played soldier!"
BANG!
The gunshot roared through the cathedral like thunder.
May you like
Women screamed. Men ducked behind pews.
The 9mm bullet hit Luca directly over his heart.
