Chapter 7 - The Alliance of Blood
The fallout from the hospital confrontation was immediate. The North Side syndicate used the incident to claim that Dante Moretti had become unstable, using family resources to settle private vendettas. A mandatory meeting of the High Council was called at an old, secure estate in Lake Forest.
The council chamber was lined with dark walnut panels, a massive green marble table sitting in the center under a heavy iron chandelier. Six aging dons sat around the table, their faces weathered by decades of survival in the underworld.
Dante sat at the head of the table, his hands folded calmly in front of him. Victor Bianchi sat opposite him, his silver cane resting against the marble.
"Dante," the oldest don, Alonzo Moretti, began, his voice hoarse from years of cigars. "The North Side claims you have dismantled a profitable police pipeline over a waitress from Marello’s. They say you are putting the family’s shipping contracts at risk for a civilian."
Dante didn't deny it. He leaned back, his eyes moving slowly across the faces of the old men who had once run the city with iron fists.
"The Vance pipeline wasn't profitable, Alonzo," Dante said flatly. "It was corrupt from the inside out. Jake Vance was skimming ten percent off the cargo manifests at Pier 3 to fund his gambling debts. His uncle at the precinct was using our protection money to clear his own gambling markers with the North Side."
He tossed a thick leather folder onto the center of the green marble.
"Inside that folder are the bank records from Veritas Holdings," Dante continued, his voice slicing through the room like a razor. "Victor Bianchi has been using the Vance family to siphon Moretti shipping data for eighteen months. The waitress wasn't the reason I broke them. She was the witness who gave me the keys to the ledger."
The room went completely still. Victor’s face drained of color, his hand jerking against his cane.
"You're lying!" Victor shouted, trying to stand. "That's a frame-up! He’s trying to cover his own tracks!"
"The signatures are certified by our Swiss compliance officers, Victor," Dante said, his mouth curling into a cold, lethal smile. "You used my restaurant, my territory, and my shipping lines to steal three million dollars from this council. I didn't break the Vances because of a personal grudge. I broke them because they were your rats."
Alonzo Moretti opened the folder, his old eyes scanning the numbers. After a long, agonizing minute, he closed it and looked up at Victor.
"The rules are the rules, Victor," Alonzo said softly. "You don't steal from the house. And you certainly don't get caught by Dante Moretti."
Alonzo signaled to the guards at the door. Before Victor could even scream, he was grabbed by the arms and dragged out of the council chamber, his silver cane clattering uselessly against the hardwood floor.
May you like
Dante stood up, buttoning his jacket. "The North Side territory will be integrated into the Moretti shipping logistics by Monday morning. If anyone has an objection, speak now."
No one said a word. The empire had been cleared of its rot, and Dante’s position at the top was absolute.
