Chapter 18 - The Price of Treason
Victor pulled the trigger, but his shot went wild, shattering a glass window above them. Luca closed the distance in a flash, his massive, powerful frame slamming Victor against the cold steel of the train engine. The silver pistol clattered to the floor, rolling into a deep drainage pit.
Luca grabbed his uncle by the collar, his amber eyes burning with a terrifying, righteous anger. He held the older man over the edge of the service pit, where exposed, rusted machinery waited below.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't drop you right now, Victor," Luca growled, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that drowned out the thunder outside. "Give me one reason after you threatened my kids."
Victor gasped for air, his fingers clawing weakly at Luca’s massive wrists. For the first time in his life, Victor Moretti looked genuinely terrified. He saw no mercy in his nephew's eyes—only the absolute protection of a family man.
"If you kill me... you become me," Victor wheezed, a pathetic attempt at psychological warfare. "You'll be a murderer... just like the rest of the Morettis."
Luca paused, his chest heaving. He looked at his own hands, then at the pathetic, broken old man in his grip. He remembered Sarah's voice: 'We aren't victims anymore. We are the wall.' He remembered his promise to spend the next fifty years making sure she only saw the light. If he killed Victor in cold blood, he would drag that darkness right back into his home.
"No," Luca whispered, his voice turning cold as ice. "I am nothing like you."
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He slammed Victor onto the concrete floor just as the doors of the warehouse burst open. Agent Vance and a dozen federal tactical officers poured into the room, their flashlights illuminating the scene.
"Secure him," Vance ordered, looking at Luca with a look of profound relief. "Victor Moretti, you are under arrest for federal escape, attempted murder, and domestic terrorism."
