Chapter 4 - The Judas Dinner
The grand dining hall of the Moretti mansion was filled with the heavy scent of roasted meats, expensive wine, and thick cigar smoke. Fourteen of Alessandro’s remaining capos sat around the massive long oak table, their faces hardened by years of street warfare. At the head of the table sat Alessandro, with Isabella on his right and Marco standing silently behind his chair.
The conversation was loud, but beneath the surface lay a palpable anxiety. Everyone knew the syndicate was bleeding men, and everyone wondered who would be next.
“Don Alessandro,” spoke up Silvio Russo, an old, gray-haired capo who had served Alessandro’s father. “The shipments through the port of Chicago have been seized three times this month alone. The feds are waiting for our trucks before they even clear the yard. We have a rat in our kitchen, Boss.”
Alessandro took a slow sip of his red wine, his eyes tracking Isabella’s hand as she delicately sliced her steak. Her fingers didn't tremble now; she was in her element, surrounded by the men she had marked for death.
“We are handling the situation, Silvio,” Alessandro said calmly. “In fact, Isabella has been helping me reorganize our transit routes to ensure the next shipment passes without interruption.”
Isabella looked up, her smile flawless. “Yes, Silvio. We have mapped out a new route through the northern railyards. It’s entirely secure. The blueprints and schedules are locked in Alessandro’s study safe as we speak. We transfer the goods on Thursday night.”
A murmur of approval rippled through the capos. They trusted her because she was a Romano, born into the life. But Alessandro knew the truth: she had just given Daniel Vance and Don Carmine the exact time and location for the final ambush that would destroy the Moretti family’s financial backbone.
“To the future of the family,” Silvio raised his glass, and the other capos followed suit.
“To the future,” Isabella echoed, her eyes meeting Alessandro’s.
In that brief moment of eye contact, Alessandro saw the briefest flash of something human in her gaze—guilt, perhaps, or regret. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the cold resolve of a woman executing a long-planned vendetta.
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After the dinner concluded and the capos dispersed, Alessandro returned to his study. He walked directly to the hidden wall safe behind a portrait of his grandfather. He opened it, revealing the master routing files for the Thursday shipment. He didn't remove them. Instead, he pulled out a secondary folder—one containing entirely fabricated schedules that would lead anyone who followed them directly into an isolated, abandoned quarry outside the city limits.
He swapped the folders, locking the fake ones into the safe. If Isabella wanted to steal his secrets, he would make sure the secrets she took were her own undoing.
