Chapter 4 - The Carlton Dinner
The Grand Carlton Hotel was an emblem of old-world luxury, featuring gilded moldings, crystal chandeliers, and heavy velvet drapery.
In Private Room B, Victoria sat across from a thick-set man in his late fifties wearing a pinstriped suit. It was Carlo Valenti—the younger brother and chief enforcer of Don Valenti.
On the table between them lay two glasses of vintage wine and a secure, encrypted satellite phone.
In the suite next door, separated only by a soundproofed wall equipped with laser micro-vibration listening devices, Allesandro sat in an armchair, wearing headphones. Dominic stood beside him with his hand on his sidearm.
Through the headphones, Victoria’s voice came through with crystal clarity.
"He suspects nothing," Victoria said, her voice dripping with dry disdain. "The idiot actually believed it was a glass bead reflecting the light. He gave the doll back to the maid’s brat this morning."
Carlo let out a low chuckle. "Moretti is getting old and soft. Ten years ago, he would have burned the house down over a blinking light. Now he lets a child play with his state secrets."
"The final shipment arrives at Port 4 on Thursday midnight," Victoria continued, her tone businesslike and cold. "The manifest includes the entire quarterly diamond transport from South Africa. Fifty million in uncut stones. I managed to photograph the security schedule from his desk yesterday using the doll's camera while he was playing with that stupid girl."
"Excellent," Carlo said. "My men will intercept the convoy at the gate. With Moretti's security codes, we'll walk in and out without firing a single shot. Once the hit is done, how long until you exit?"
"I’ll leave the country Friday morning," Victoria replied coldly. "I've placed small amounts of ricin into his evening tea canister over the last two weeks. By the time the diamonds are gone, Moretti will suffer a quiet, completely unsuspected heart attack. The doctors will call it stress-induced heart failure."
Inside the adjacent room, Dominic gasped, drawing his weapon immediately. "Boss! Let me take the team in right now! I'll put a bullet through both of them!"
Allesandro raised a single hand, signaling for quiet. His face was a mask of cold steel.
"Ricin in my tea," Allesandro murmured softly, remembering how Victoria had insisted on brewing his chamomile tea every evening before bed for the past fortnight.
"Boss, you've been drinking that tea!" Dominic cried in horror.
"I haven't," Allesandro replied flatly. "I hate chamomile. I've been pouring it into the planter behind my desk every night to avoid offending her. The plant died three days ago. Now I know why."
Allesandro stood up, taking off the headphones and handing them to Marcus.
"They think Port 4 is their prize," Allesandro said, his voice ringing like a blade sliding from a sheath. "We are going to let them attempt the heist. We will catch Carlo, Don Valenti, and their entire operational network in the net simultaneously."
May you like
"And Victoria?" Dominic asked, his eyes burning with fury.
"Let her enjoy her lunch," Allesandro said quietly. "Her execution will be performed in full view of the entire syndicate."
