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414 The Maid’s Toddler Gave a Dying Mafia Boss Her Last Inhaler to Save His Life—What He Found Out Next… / Chapter 2 / 6

Chapter 2 - The Trap Set in Marble

The room fell into an uncomfortable, suffocation-level silence.

Sophia shrank back in horror, clutching Emma against her chest. "That's not true! I was cleaning the second-floor linen closets! I never opened Mr. Moretti's study door! I swear to God!"

"Lies!" Vincent spat, stepping closer, his hand resting on the holster at his hip. "You were struggling to pay your daughter’s medical bills! The Falcone family offered you fifty thousand dollars to swap the canisters! Marco, seize her!"

Marco looked at Aleandro, waiting for a command. But Aleandro didn't move. He stood completely still, his dark eyes locked onto his cousin’s nervous, sweating face.

"That’s very detailed, Vincent," Aleandro said softly, his voice dangerously smooth. "How do you know the exact amount the Falcones allegedly paid her?"

Vincent froze, his breath catching in his throat. "I... I overheard a wiretap from our intelligence team in Brooklyn twenty minutes ago! They mentioned a payoff!"

Aleandro walked slowly toward his cousin. "That’s funny, Vincent. Because our intelligence team in Brooklyn had their server lines cut three days ago. They haven't transmitted a wiretap since Tuesday."

Vincent’s eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated panic. He took a sharp step backward toward the door. "Aleandro, listen to me—"

"No, you listen to me," Aleandro growled, his voice dropping an octave, echoing with lethal authority. "Sophia Rossi has worked in this house for seven months. She has never touched my private desk. But you, Vincent... you were in this study yesterday afternoon at 4:00 PM, claiming you needed me to sign the quarterly financial reports for our shipping ports."

Aleandro tapped his desk console, illuminating a high-resolution display monitor embedded in the mahogany surface.

"The hidden camera inside the ceiling crown molding doesn't rely on the main security server, Vincent," Aleandro said, pointing to the screen.

On the video feed, clearly recorded eighteen hours earlier, Vincent Moretti was seen wearing thin latex gloves, opening Aleandro’s desk drawer, removing the authentic medical inhaler, and replacing it with the identical toxic canister!

"You traitorous dog," Marco spat, drawing his silenced sidearm and aiming it directly at Vincent’s head!

Vincent’s composure shattered completely. He pulled his own weapon, aiming it frantically toward Aleandro! "You destroyed this family, Aleandro! Ever since Isabella and Kiara died, you became a ghost! You stopped expanding our territory! You let the Falcones take our shipping docks because you didn't have the heart to fight anymore! The family needed a leader, not a broken man mourning in an empty castle!"

"So you sold out your own blood to the Falcones?" Aleandro asked, his voice dead of emotion.

"They promised me the throne!" Vincent screamed, his finger tightening on the trigger! "They promised me New York!"

Before Vincent could pull the trigger, five-year-old Emma, frightened by the loud shouting, let out a harsh, agonizing cough from the corner of the room.

The sound shattered the tension like glass.

In that split second of distraction, Aleandro moved with lightning speed! He grabbed Vincent’s wrist, twisting it upward violently!

CRACK!

Vincent shrieked in pain as his gun fell onto the marble floor! Marco lunged forward, slamming Vincent face-first against the heavy oak table, pinning his arms behind his back with plastic zip-ties!

"Take him down to the vault," Aleandro commanded, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. "Find out every name, every contact, and every warehouse associated with the Falcone plot. Leave no stone unturned."

"With pleasure, Boss," Marco growled, dragging the screaming, kicking traitor out of the room.

Aleandro turned around, looking at Sophia and Emma. The little girl was crying softly, trembling against her mother’s waist.

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Aleandro walked over, kneeling down again, completely ignoring the danger he had just survived. He reached out and gently brushed a tear from Emma’s small cheek.

"It’s over, little one," Aleandro whispered softly. "No one will ever scream in this house again."

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