Chapter 5 - The Snake at the Table
The main study of the Moretti estate was an exercise in intimidation. The walls were lined with dark walnut paneling, and the massive desk was carved from a single piece of black oak. Matteo sat behind it, his hands folded neatly on the green leather blotter, his face completely devoid of expression.
Across from him sat Silvano Romano—the younger, more volatile Don of the Romano syndicate. Silvano was dressed in a flashy blue Italian suit, his gold watch catching the sunlight, a smug, arrogant smile playing on his lips despite the two armed Moretti guards standing directly behind his chair.
When Norah entered, flanked by Silas, Silvano’s eyes tracked her with a slow, slimy appreciation that made her skin crawl.
"Ah, the beautiful Mrs. Moretti," Silvano purred, leaning back in his chair. "The woman who causes so much trouble in small coffee shops. I must apologize for the behavior of that street dog, Derek. He was an associate of an associate. We had no idea he had such... personal history with your lovely bride, Matteo."
"Your apology is noted, Silvano," Matteo said, his voice level and cool. "But you did not bring your legal counsel to my home at noon to discuss my wife’s past acquaintances. State your business."
The older lawyer sitting next to Silvano cleared his throat, sliding a thick blue folder across the oak desk. "Don Moretti, my client is prepared to offer a settlement regarding the dispute over the North River shipping lanes. In exchange for the dismissal of the federal injunctions your family filed against Pier 9, the Romano family will cede all territorial rights to the valley warehouses."
Matteo didn't touch the folder. He didn't even look down at it. "The valley warehouses are already mine, Silvano. Your crews abandoned them three hours ago after Silas paid a visit to your captain, Leo."
Silvano’s smile cracked for a brief second, his eyes flashing with a sudden, vicious heat. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Let's stop playing the lawyer game, Matteo. You think you've got me cornered because you took my docks. But New York is a big city. People get lost in the fog all the time. Women. Children. Even contract wives who spend too much time in Brooklyn cafés."
The threat was subtle, but it filled the room like poison gas.
Norah felt a sudden wave of dizziness, her hand automatically tightening against the fabric of her dress over her stomach. She tried to check the movement, but Silvano’s sharp eyes caught it. His gaze dropped to her midsection, then traveled back up to her face, a slow, ugly realization dawning in his expression.
"Well, well," Silvano whispered, a low, cruel chuckle escaping his lips. "Look at that. The ice king finally found a way to melt. No wonder you've got forty men on the wall today, Matteo. You're not protecting a territory. You're protecting a nursery."
Matteo stood up.
He didn't move quickly, but the sheer physical presence of him seemed to double in size. The air in the room grew so thick that the Romano lawyer looked as if he might faint.
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"Silvano," Matteo said, his voice dropping so low it was almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a falling mountain. "You have exactly sixty seconds to get out of my house, get into your vehicle, and cross the bridge back to your own borough. If you are still on my property when the clock strikes twelve, I will not send your people back in pieces. I will bury your entire name under the concrete of the new stadium."
Silvano stood up slowly, fixing his tie with trembling fingers that he tried to hide. He looked at Norah one last time, his eyes full of a dangerous, calculated malice. "Enjoy the peace while it lasts, Mrs. Moretti. Children grow up so fast in this city. If they grow up at all."
