Chapter 7 - Unmasking the Snakes
The Executive Boardroom on the eightieth floor of the Moretti Tower overlooked the glowing skyline of downtown Chicago.
Around the massive oval mahogany table sat ten elderly underbosses, financial directors, and senior captains who governed the syndicate’s legal and illegal operations across the Midwest.
At the head of the table sat Arthur Shaw—dressed in a three-piece charcoal suit, looking every bit the ruthless political kingmaker he was. Beside him stood Evelyn, wearing a pristine white suit, her face cold and composed.
Standing near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows was Marcus Vance, my long-time advisor, pretending to look concerned while sipping a tumbler of bourbon.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Arthur Shaw announced, his loud, boisterous voice echoing through the room. "We are here tonight on a matter of urgent family security. It is with a heavy heart that my daughter and I must report that Luca Moretti has become compromised."
A murmur ran through the assembled underbosses.
"Compromised how, Arthur?" asked Don Vincente, the oldest captain at the table.
"He has suffered a severe emotional break," Evelyn chimed in smoothly, her voice filled with practiced sympathy. "Last night at a public event, he abandoned me and chased an unstable ex-wife into the street. He has spent the last twelve hours making wild allegations, neglecting his duties, and associating with untraceable elements. We believe he is no longer fit to hold the chair."
"Is that so?"
The heavy oak doors of the boardroom swung open with a deafening bang.
I walked into the room.
I was flanked by Matteo and six heavy enforcers carrying suppressed tactical sidearms. I was dressed in a tailored black suit, my coat open, my eyes burning with a lethal intensity that made three underbosses instantly stand up from their chairs.
"Luca," Arthur Shaw said, his eyes narrowing, though he tried to maintain his composure. "You shouldn't be here. This is an internal review."
"This is my table, Arthur," I said, my voice dropping like a heavy hammer as I walked down the length of the room.
I didn't sit in the head chair. I stood at the foot of the table, resting my hands on the polished wood, looking at every man in the room.
"Marcus," I said softly, turning my gaze to my trusted advisor standing near the window. "How long have we worked together?"
Marcus swallowed hard, clutching his glass of bourbon. "Fifteen years, Luca. Ever since your father passed."
"Fifteen years," I repeated. "And how much was my loyalty worth to you, Marcus? Half a million dollars?"
Marcus’s face went completely grey. "Luca... I don't know what you're talking about—"
"Matteo," I commanded.
Matteo stepped forward and slammed a heavy leather folder onto the center of the mahogany table, along with a high-definition tablet. He pressed play on the tablet.
The audio recording echoed through the high-end speakers of the boardroom:
“The target is Nia Reyes,” Marcus Vance’s voice came through crystal clear, recorded four years ago. “Dr. Harrison will falsify the uterine biopsy records. Make sure Luca believes she can never bear children. Arthur Shaw will execute the transfer to your Zurich account once the divorce decree is signed.”
The room went dead, terrifyingly silent.
Evelyn gasped, backing away toward the window. Arthur Shaw’s jaw dropped, his face turning a deep, dangerous purple.
"You forged my wife's medical records," I said, stepping closer to Marcus, my voice terrifyingly calm. "You made me abandon my pregnant wife. You stole four years of my sons' lives."
"Luca... please!" Marcus dropped his glass, the bourbon spilling across the expensive carpet as he fell to his knees, throwing his hands up in terror. "It wasn't my idea! Arthur approached me! He threatened to pull his political backing from the docks if I didn't help him force the marriage with Evelyn!"
"You traitorous swine!" Arthur Shaw roared, reaching into his coat—
CRACK!
Matteo didn't hesitate. A single silenced shot tore through the shoulder of Arthur Shaw’s suit, spinning the politician back into his leather chair, blood blooming across his white shirt.
Evelyn screamed, dropping to the floor, covering her head.
The underbosses around the table didn't move an inch. Don Vincente looked at the blood on the table, then up at me, standing tall at the head of his empire.
"What is your judgment, Boss?" Vincente asked quietly.
I looked down at Marcus sobbing at my feet, then at Arthur Shaw clutching his shoulder, and finally at Evelyn cowering under the table.
"Marcus Vance and Arthur Shaw are stripped of all assets, all rank, and all protection," I declared, my voice echoing like a death sentence. "Transfer Marcus to the lower basement. Hand Arthur Shaw over to the federal authorities along with the complete paper trail of his financial crimes. Let him spend the rest of his life in a federal penitentiary."
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I looked down at Evelyn.
"And as for you, Evelyn," I said cold-heartedly. "Our marriage is annulled as of this minute. You will take your personal belongings and leave Chicago by midnight. If I ever see your face in this city again, not even your father's remaining friends will be able to save you."
