Chapter 5 - The War for Manhattan
By morning, the failed assault on the Valente estate had thrown New York's underworld into absolute chaos.
Victor Moretti had committed his entire force to the strike and failed. Now, he was cornered in his heavily fortified stronghold—a high-rise construction tower overlooking the Hudson River.
Ezra did not wait for the police. He did not wait for federal authorities.
At noon, a convoy of ten black armored SUVs pulled up to the base of the Moretti construction tower. Over fifty heavily armed Valente soldiers poured out, securing the perimeter and cutting off all escape routes.
In the lead vehicle, Ezra sat in the back seat, adjusting his cufflinks. Beside him sat Lena, wearing tactical gear, and Rosie, who refused to be left behind at the safehouse.
"This ends today, Papa," Rosie said softly.
"Yes, my sweet," Ezra replied, reaching out to pat Brutus, who sat between them, his head resting on the leather seats. "Today, we finish what your mother started."
Ezra turned to Lena. "Take Rosie and Brutus to the secondary command vehicle. Keep them safe while we clear the upper floors."
"Understood, Don Ezra," Lena said.
Ezra stepped out of the vehicle, leading his strike team into the tower.
For forty-five minutes, the sound of controlled breaches and heavy gunfire echoed from the upper floors of the unfinished skyscraper. The Valente family swept through the building like a tidal wave, systematically dismantling Moretti’s private army.
On the 40th floor—a wide, open concrete deck overlooking the foggy river below—Victor Moretti stood backed against the edge, flanked by his two remaining bodyguards.
Ezra walked out onto the windswept concrete deck, his rifle lowered at his side.
"It's over, Victor," Ezra said calmly over the sound of the howling wind. "Your men have surrendered. Your assets are seized. Dominic has already confessed to everything in federal court."
Victor Moretti, a heavy-set man with wild, desperate eyes, spat on the concrete floor. "You think you've won, Valente?! You think you can just march in here and take everything back?!"
Moretti pulled a small remote detonator from his pocket.
"I rigged the support columns on this floor!" Moretti screamed, his thumb hovering over the red button. "If I go down, you go down with me! The whole floor drops into the river!"
Ezra didn't flinch. He didn't step back.
"You won't press it, Victor," Ezra said softly. "Because you're a coward. You sold out my wife because you were afraid of her vision. You hurt a little girl because you were afraid of her legacy."
Suddenly, the heavy steel door behind Ezra slammed open!
Victor’s thumb panicked—his hand twitched toward the red button—
BANG!
A high-powered rifle round shattered the detonator in Victor’s hand!
Victor screamed in pain, clutching his bleeding wrist as the broken device skittered across the concrete floor and tumbled off the edge into the abyss below!
Two hundred yards away, on the roof of an adjacent building, Lena lowered her sniper rifle, her voice crackling through Ezra’s earpiece: "Target disarmed, Don Ezra. Clear to move."
Ezra walked calmly forward, grabbing Victor Moretti by his lapels, pulling him close until their eyes were inches apart.
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"For Colette," Ezra whispered.
He handed Moretti off to Marco and his waiting soldiers. "Hand him over to the federal authorities along with Dominic's full confession. Let them rot in a maximum-security cell for the rest of their miserable lives."
