Chapter 6 - The Dinner at Palazzo
At 8:00 PM, the private dining room on the top floor of the Palazzo Romano was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Rain again beat against the high glass windows.
Don Carmine Moretti sat at the head of a long marble table, an arrogant smile on his weathered, scarred face. He was a man in his late sixties, flanked by two heavily armed bodyguards who stood near the doors like stone statues.
The double doors opened, and Alessandro Romano walked in alone, carrying a crystal decanter of red wine.
"Alessandro," Carmine purred in thick Italian, spreading his arms wide. "It has been too many years, my nephew. Look at you—the king of New York hospitality."
"Carmine," Alessandro replied neutrally, pouring two glasses of wine. He slid one across the table to the older man and took his seat at the opposite end. "Welcome to my hotel."
Carmine took a sip of the wine, smacking his lips in satisfaction. "Exquisite. But let us skip the pleasantries, Alessandro. I am here on business. I was told your General Manager, Victor, had located something that belongs to my branch of the family."
"Victor is no longer with the hotel," Alessandro said smoothly. "He had a severe lapse in ethics."
Carmine’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Is that so? Pity. He was a useful idiot. Regardless, I know Sofia and the girl are in this city. Hand them over to me, Alessandro. It is an internal Naples matter. You have your empire here; do not meddle in mine."
Alessandro leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine glass. "Meddle? Carmine, Giuliano was like a brother to me. When he was killed, I searched for his wife and child for two years before their trail went cold."
"They were a liability!" Carmine snapped, dropping his friendly facade. "Sofia is a nobody—a servant's daughter Giuliano foolishly married. And the child is a female. She cannot rule Naples. The Moretti fortune belongs to the family, not to a sickly girl playing with toys in the gutter!"
Alessandro set his glass down with a soft clink. The atmosphere in the room instantly dropped by ten degrees.
"That 'sickly girl' sat in my lobby three nights ago," Alessandro said, his voice dropping to an icy murmur. "She was starving, Carmine. Her mother was bleeding from her lungs because your paid dog withheld her six-thousand-dollar wage."
Carmine scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Collateral damage. The woman was soft. She was bound to die anyway."
Alessandro raised his hand and snapped his fingers once.
The side curtains of the dining room parted. Marco stepped out, tossing a heavy, bloody ring onto the table in front of Carmine. It was the family signet ring belonging to Carmine’s chief enforcement officer in Italy.
Carmine gasped, his chair scraping back as his two bodyguards instinctively reached under their jackets for their weapons.
Before their hands could touch steel, the silent shadow of red laser sights appeared on both bodyguards' chests. Four of Alessandro’s top snipers were positioned on the balcony outside, their rifles aimed directly through the glass.
"Move a finger," Alessandro warned quietly, "and your brains will decorate my wallpaper."
The bodyguards froze, their hands hovering in mid-air.
Carmine’s chest heaved with rage and sudden fear. "You would break syndicate law for a maid and a bastard child?!"
"Sofia is Giuliano’s widow," Alessandro declared, standing up and towering over the table. "And Emma is a Romano. You came to my city to murder my blood. There is no syndicate law that protects you here, Carmine."
Alessandro reached into his jacket, pulled out a thick document, and threw it onto the table. "This is a full surrender of all Moretti assets in Naples, transferred directly into an irrevocable trust managed by my legal firm for Emma Moretti. You will sign it now."
Carmine sneered, his yellowed teeth showing. "And if I refuse? You'll kill me here? It will start an all-out war between New York and Naples!"
Alessandro leaned down, placing both hands flat on the table, his dark eyes staring directly into Carmine’s soul.
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"The war is already over, Carmine," Alessandro whispered. "While you were flying across the Atlantic, my men in Naples seized your compound, arrested your lieutenants, and handed your financial records to the Italian Federal Police. You have no empire left to fight with."
Carmine’s face turned gray. He looked at the laser sights still burning on his guards' chests, then at the document in front of him. Realizing he had been completely outmaneuvered, his trembling hand reached for the pen.
