Chapter 6 - The Trap is Set

The rain hammered against the bulletproof windows of the Moretti penthouse in downtown Manhattan. Inside the lavish boardroom, mahogany tables gleamed under crystal chandeliers, and twelve high-ranking syndicate capos sat in tense, anxious silence.
At the head of the table sat Marco Vane. He swirled a glass of expensive bourbon, a smug, triumphant smile plastered across his face.
"Gentlemen," Marco announced, standing up and spreading his arms. "We all know the reality. Lorenzo’s car crash was severe. Fifty days of radio silence from the Long Island estate. Isabella is playing nursemaid to a corpse because she’s terrified of losing her position. It’s time to vote. I formally nominate myself as the head of the Moretti family."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. Several capos, eager to secure their own power under a more reckless and pliable leader, nodded in approval.
"I second the motion," a heavy-set capo named Sal muttered, raising his glass. "It’s time for a new era."
"I wouldn't be too hasty, Sal," a cold, effortless voice echoed from the shadows near the double doors.
The entire room froze. Glasses stopped halfway to mouths. Color drained entirely from Marco’s face as the heavy oak doors swung wide open.
Striding into the room with a tailored black overcoat, sharp suit, and an aura of absolute, terrifying dominance was Lorenzo Moretti. He didn't look like a man who had spent seven weeks in a coma. His posture was rigid, his gaze lethal, and every step he took radiated cold, calculated fury.
Behind him walked Isabella, holding an encrypted leather briefcase, and—to the absolute shock of everyone present—Clara, who nervously pushed a stroller carrying a sleeping Mia clutching her gray rabbit.
May you like
"L-Lorenzo?" Marco choked out, nearly dropping his glass. "That's... that's impossible. The reports said—"
"The reports were written by men who wanted me dead, Marco," Lorenzo said smoothly, stopping right at the head of the table. He didn't sit down. He leaned his knuckles against the mahogany, staring directly into his cousin's terrified eyes. "You looked very comfortable in my chair. Care to sit there a little longer?"