Chapter 7 - The Mastermind’s Gambit
The breach of the estate upper levels sounded like thunder.
I didn't run. I sat comfortably behind the massive mahogany desk in the estate's main study, holding an unlit cigar, waiting. The rain outside continued to pour through the shattered skylight above.
The door to the study was kicked open with a violent crash.
Dominic walked in, flanked by ten heavily armed mercenaries. He held a smoking pistol in his hand, a broad, arrogant grin plastered across his face.
"End of the line, Luca," Dominic sneered, walking slowly into the center of the room. "I must admit, you put up a hell of a fight. But it's over. Where is the girl? Where is the boy?"
I didn't answer immediately. I took out a gold lighter, flicked the flame, and slowly lit my cigar. Puffing a cloud of blue smoke into the chilly air, I leaned back in my chair.
"You always were impatient, Dominic," I said softly. "That’s why you could never run Chicago on your own."
Dominic's smile faltered slightly, replaced by an edge of irritation. "Don't lecture me! You're cornered! You have no men left! The Valenti family has already taken over your docks, your warehouses, and your territory! You're a ghost, Luca!"
"Am I?" I asked.
I picked up a remote control on the desk and clicked a red button.
The large television monitor behind me flickered to life. Live news broadcasts from three different national networks filled the screen simultaneously.
"Breaking news out of Chicago and New York," a news anchor announced loudly. "Federal authorities have just launched massive, coordinated raids against the Valenti crime syndicate and their local affiliates. Leaked financial documents and encrypted wiretaps detailing decades of extortion, murder, and political corruption were delivered directly to the Department of Justice less than twenty minutes ago..."
Dominic’s face turned ghastly white. "What... what did you do?"
"Sofia did it," I corrected him smoothly. "Every politician you paid off? Exposed. Every bank account you used to hide your syndicate money? Frozen. Right now, federal agents are raiding Don Valenti's estate in Long Island. You didn't conquer Chicago, Dominic. You just walked yourself into a federal trap."
"Kill him!" Dominic screamed in a panic, pointing his gun at me. "KILL HIM NOW!"
None of the mercenaries moved.
Instead, three of them turned their weapons and pointed them directly at Dominic's head.
Dominic gasped, stepping back in absolute horror. "What... what are you doing?! I paid you!"
The lead mercenary pulled off his tactical helmet, revealing the scarred face of Vane—my most loyal operative, whom Dominic assumed had been killed during the freeway ambush.
"You paid us with Valenti money, Dominic," Vane said coldly. "And as of five minutes ago, Valenti money is worthless. Mr. Moretti, on the other hand, pays in gold."
Dominic looked at me, his eyes wide with absolute, pathetic terror. The bold, arrogant traitor had vanished, replaced by a desperate rat cornered in a trap of his own making.
"Luca... please," Dominic begged, dropping his weapon to the floor with a clatter. "We were like brothers! I was manipulated by Valenti! They threatened me! You know I would never—"
"Save it," I said, standing up from the desk. "You murdered my wife. You poisoned my three-year-old son. You tried to steal everything I built."
I walked over to him, stopping inches away from his trembling frame.
"I promised Sofia I wouldn't let vengeance consume me," I said softly. "So I won't kill you."
May you like
Dominic breathed a sudden sigh of relief. "Thank you, Luca... thank you—"
"Vane," I interrupted, turning my back on him. "Hand him over to the federal authorities. Make sure he shares a cell with the men he tried to sell us out to. Let him spend the next forty years remembering who rules this city."
