Chapter 6 - The Ledger of Blood
Inside the slaughterhouse by the river, Lorenzo plugged the black drive into a heavy military-grade laptop Mateo had set up on a folding table.
Sophie sat nearby, wrapped in a thick wool blanket Mateo had handed her, sipping hot coffee from a thermos.
The laptop screen flickered, displaying lines of encrypted code before decrypting into a vast, complex financial network. Ledgers, shipping manifests, bank routing numbers, and audio recordings popped up in organized files.
Mateo leaned over Lorenzo’s shoulder, whistling softly through his teeth. "Dio mio... look at this."
Lorenzo clicked through the files. It was far worse than he had anticipated.
Santino hadn't just arranged Lorenzo’s assassination; he had spent the last eight months draining the Moretti family’s legitimate reserves into shell companies registered in the Cayman Islands. Worse, the manifests confirmed that three shipping containers loaded with heavy weaponry and synthetic narcotics were currently anchored at Pier 42, waiting for Santino’s authorization to be distributed across Chicago’s street gangs.
"He was going to start a street war," Lorenzo said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "He wanted the city in total chaos so he could declare martial law within the syndicate and wipe out every captain who voiced opposition."
"And here," Mateo pointed to an audio file dated three days ago.
Lorenzo clicked play.
The voice of Don Valenti from New York filled the dusty slaughterhouse room, crackling through the laptop speakers: “Lorenzo is too traditional, Santino. He refuses to touch the narcotics market. Once he is eliminated in Manhattan, my family will back your control of Chicago, provided you take forty percent of the street distribution.”
Then came Santino’s response: “Lorenzo won't survive Thursday. By Friday morning, Chicago belongs to Manhattan.”
Lorenzo closed the laptop screen with a quiet click.
The betrayal was total. It was complete. But more importantly, it was documented.
"Mateo," Lorenzo said, standing up and buttoning his heavy overcoat. "Call a meeting of the High Council. Every captain—Carmine, Gianna, Bruno, and the Viscardi elders. Tell them Don Lorenzo Moretti has returned from Manhattan with urgent news regarding the family’s survival."
"Where do we hold it?" Mateo asked. "If Santino knows you're alive, he’ll bring his entire armory."
"We hold it at the Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel," Lorenzo replied, his eyes blazing with a dark, lethal light. "At eight o'clock tonight. The exact time Santino plans to hold his celebration dinner."
He turned to look at Sophie. She was staring at him, her dark eyes reflecting the harsh overhead light of the slaughterhouse.
"You've done more than enough, Sophie," Lorenzo said, stepping over to her. He reached into his coat and pulled out a thick envelope filled with cash and a set of blank Italian passports. "Mateo’s men will take you to O'Hare. There is a private flight waiting to take you to Europe. You will be safe, comfortable, and rich for the rest of your life."
Sophie looked at the envelope, then up at Lorenzo. Slowly, she pushed his hand away.
"I didn't do this for money, Mr. Moretti," she said softly.
"I know," Lorenzo said. "Which is why I am giving it to you. But tonight will be a bloodbath. You don't belong in this world."
"I was in this world the moment Santino held my chin in your library," Sophie said, standing up and letting the wool blanket slide from her shoulders. "I want to see it end."
May you like
Lorenzo stared at her for a long moment, seeing the quiet, unbreakable iron behind her gentle face. He inclined his head slightly.
"Then you will ride in my car," Lorenzo said.
