Chapter 9 - The Reckoning
The executive boardroom of Moretti Holdings atop the Manhattan skyscraper was bathed in the red glow of the city lights below.
Five men sat around the long conference table. Salvatore was gone, replaced by loyalty that had been re-tested and enforced with iron. But at the far end of the table sat Marco — the young capo who had questioned Dominic's sanity when the children first arrived.
Dominic walked in, carrying a small, heavy leather briefcase. He didn't sit at the head of the table. He stood by the window, his hands resting on the back of an empty chair.
"We have a rat," Dominic said quietly.
The men around the table stiffened. Marco cleared his throat, keeping his face smooth. "A rat, Boss? Who is it? We'll handle him."
"You already know him, Marco," Dominic said, his voice dangerously soft. "He's someone who told me that sentimentality was a vulnerability. Someone who believed that keeping ties to the past made us weak."
Marco's expression didn't change, but his right hand twitched slightly toward his jacket pocket. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dominic."
Dominic opened the leather briefcase and dropped a heavy gold signet ring onto the polished mahogany table. It rolled a few inches and stopped right in front of Marco's plate.
A double-headed eagle holding a broken sword.
The room went dead silent. You could hear the hum of the air conditioning units through the vents.
Marco stared at the ring, and for the first time, all the color drained from his face. "Boss... I can explain—"
"Seven years ago," Dominic interrupted, his voice rising, carrying the terrifying, suppressed fury of a tidal wave about to break, "you thought you were being clever. You thought if Elena Rossi stayed in Brooklyn, she might one day reach out to me. You thought she was a loose end."
"She was a civilian, Dominic!" Marco snapped, dropping his mask, standing up from his chair. "She was a weakness! Your father built this empire on blood and iron, and you were letting her turn you into a domestic dog! I did what needed to be done to protect the family!"
"You didn't protect the family," Dominic said, drawing his Sig Sauer with blinding speed and leveling the barrel straight between Marco's eyes. "You destroyed the only piece of my soul that was ever worth keeping."
"Go ahead," Marco sneered, raising his chin, though his hands shook. "Shoot me. But the other capos will see what you're doing. They'll know you're destroying the organization over a dead woman and two bastards!"
Dominic didn't hesitate.
The gunshot echoed through the skyscraper like thunder, shattering the glass of the boardroom windows and sending the other capos diving for cover.
Marco slumped backward over his chair, lifeless before he hit the floor.
Dominic lowered the smoking weapon. He didn't look at the body. He looked at the remaining men, whose faces were pale, sweat-soaked, and paralyzed with absolute terror.
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"If anyone ever," Dominic said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper that filled the entire room, "so much as looks sideways at Sophia or Luca Rossi... I won't just kill you. I will dismantle everything your families built down to the last brick."
He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
