Chapter 3 - The Broken Ledger
The private office of Alessandro Moretti was locked from the inside. Marco Bellini stood before the desk, tossing a thick, leather-bound book onto the mahogany surface. It was the historical ledger of the Romano family, recovered by his operatives from an old vault in Cicero.
“You were right, Boss,” Marco said, his face grim. “There is no Daniel in the Romano family history. But we ran the facial recognition from the small fragment of the corridor camera that caught his reflection last night. His real name is Daniel Vance. He’s a former deep-cover operative for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, officially listed as 'terminated' eighteen months ago.”
Alessandro leaned back in his leather chair, the shadows of the room concealing his expression. “An FBI agent. And Isabella is handing him our security blueprints.”
“It gets worse,” Marco continued, tapping the ledger. “Enzo Romano didn't die of natural causes two years ago. We found a redacted medical report hidden in his lawyer’s files. He was poisoned with a localized toxin. The primary suspect back then was Don Carmine Lucchese, but the investigation was abruptly buried by a senior federal prosecutor.”
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. “Lucchese didn't kill Enzo to start a war. He killed him to take control of his family. And he used Isabella to do it.”
“So what’s the play?” Marco drew his weapon, checking the slide. “Do I take her to the basement? We can make her talk before the capos arrive for the dinner meeting tonight.”
“No,” Alessandro said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “If we move against her now, Lucchese will know the trap is blown. He will pull back into the shadows, and the leak will remain active. We let her think she’s winning. We let her play her hand.”
A soft knock interrupted them. Alessandro nodded to Marco, who quickly slid the ledger into a desk drawer before opening the door.
Isabella stood there, wearing a stunning black evening gown, her diamonds catching the dim light of the office. She smiled beautifully, stepping past Marco as if she owned the room. “Alessandro, the capos from the western district have just arrived. They are waiting in the dining hall. Are you ready to join us?”
May you like
Alessandro rose from his desk, his face a perfect mirror of her own deceptive calm. He walked over to her, offering his arm. “Of course, my love. Tonight is a very important night. We should celebrate the future.”
As they walked down the grand staircase toward the dining hall, Alessandro felt the slight weight of her hand on his forearm. It was the same hand that had likely signed the execution orders for seventeen of his men. The drama was no longer confined to the shadows of three in the morning; the players were on the stage, and the curtain was about to rise.
