Chapter 11 - THE BROTHER'S TRAP
The words hit Luca like a physical blow.
M. Moretti. $500,000.
“Matteo took Bellini’s money to buy the judge,” Luca muttered, staring at the ledger, his mind furiously connecting the dots. “He’s orchestrating the entire trial from the shadows. He makes sure Arthur and Carlo walk free, they owe him their lives, and he uses their muscle to take my empire.”
Luca slammed the ledger shut. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the quiet, glass-walled office.
“We have to take this ledger to the FBI director right now,” Emily said urgently, picking up the heavy red book. “If they see that Matteo is paying off the judge presiding over Arthur’s trial, they’ll declare a mistrial. They’ll arrest Vance.”
“No,” Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm. He stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. “If we hand this to the feds, Vance claims he didn’t know the money was dirty, Matteo disappears into the wind again, and Arthur’s lawyers tie the case up in appeals for ten years. Arthur stays alive. Matteo stays free.”
“Then what do we do?” Emily asked, her heart pounding.
“We don’t stop the trial,” Luca said, his dark eyes burning with a lethal, calculating fire. “We let the judge deliver the verdict. But we make sure Matteo is in the room when he does.”
Luca walked out of the bank, Emily hurrying behind him with the ledger.
When they returned to the Moretti estate, the sun was beginning to set, casting long, bloody shadows across the manicured lawns. The security perimeter had been doubled. Marco’s men were armed with heavy rifles, pacing the grounds like caged tigers.
Luca went straight to his study and locked the door behind them.
He didn’t sit behind his desk. He walked to the hidden wall safe behind a massive oil painting, spun the dial rapidly, and pulled open the heavy steel door.
He reached inside and pulled out a sleek, black satellite phone.
“Who are you calling?” Emily asked, setting the red ledger on the desk.
“The only man arrogant enough to think he’s won,” Luca said, dialing a number from memory.
He put the phone on speaker and set it on the desk.
It rang three times.
“I was wondering when you’d figure it out, little brother,” Matteo’s cold, mocking voice echoed through the speaker.
“I have the foundation ledger, Matteo,” Luca said evenly, showing absolutely no emotion. “I know you bought Judge Vance.”
“Congratulations,” Matteo laughed, a dry, scraping sound. “You’re a day late and a dollar short. The trial is tomorrow at noon. Vance will dismiss the charges against Arthur and Carlo due to ‘lack of credible evidence.’ They walk free, and the Bellini syndicate gets their revenge on you.”
“I’ll hand the ledger to the FBI tonight,” Luca threatened.
“Do it,” Matteo sneered. “By the time the feds authenticate a stolen mob ledger, Arthur will already be out of custody. He’ll be in a private jet heading to a non-extradition country, and I’ll be sitting in your leather chair.”
“What do you want, Matteo?” Luca asked, playing the role of a desperate, cornered man perfectly. “You want the legitimate businesses? You want the shipping ports? Fine. They’re yours. Just leave my daughter out of it.”
A long, heavy silence stretched across the line.
“I don’t just want your businesses, Luca,” Matteo said, his voice dropping to a vicious, hateful whisper. “I want my life back. The life you stole when you took the throne after I had to fake my death. I want you to hand me the empire in person.”
“Where?” Luca asked.
“The old rail yard on the South Side. Warehouse 4. Tonight at midnight,” Matteo commanded. “You come alone. You bring the transfer deeds for the ports and the foundation ledger. If I see a single one of your guards, I make a phone call, and Arthur’s men burn your estate to the ground with your new little maid and your daughter inside.”
The line clicked dead.
Emily stared at the phone in horror. “You can’t go, Luca. It’s an execution. He’s going to kill you the second you hand over the deeds.”
“I know,” Luca said calmly. He walked to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a stack of legal documents—the transfer deeds for his billion-dollar shipping empire.
“Then why did you agree to it?!” Emily cried, grabbing his arm.
Luca turned to look at her. The fierce, protective love in his eyes broke her heart.
“Because as long as Matteo is alive, you and Lily will never be safe,” Luca said softly. “He’s a ghost. The FBI can’t find him. My men can’t find him. This is the only way to draw him out into the open.”
“But he said to come alone!” Emily argued, tears welling in her eyes. “If Marco’s men can’t back you up, you’ll be walking into a firing squad!”
Luca reached out and gently cupped her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“I told him I would come without my guards,” Luca whispered, a dark, dangerous smile playing on his lips. “But I never said I was coming alone.”
At 11:45 PM, the South Side rail yard was a desolate, freezing wasteland of rusted train cars and decaying brick warehouses.
Luca’s black SUV pulled slowly up to the massive, rolling steel doors of Warehouse 4. The headlights cut through the thick Chicago fog, illuminating a dozen heavily armed men standing in the shadows. Matteo’s mercenaries.
Luca put the car in park. He looked at the passenger seat.
Emily sat there, dressed in a dark tactical jacket, her face pale but her jaw set with absolute, unyielding determination. Resting on her lap was the red foundation ledger.
“Are you sure about this, Hannah?” Luca asked quietly, his eyes searching hers. “Once we step out of this car, there is no going back.”
“He murdered my father to cover his tracks, Luca,” Emily said, her voice steady and hard. “He murdered your wife. I’m not letting you face him alone.”
Luca nodded once.
They stepped out of the SUV together.
The mercenaries immediately raised their assault rifles, aiming dozens of red laser sights directly at Luca’s chest.
The heavy steel doors of the warehouse rolled open with a deafening screech.
Matteo Moretti stood in the center of the massive, empty warehouse, illuminated by harsh overhead work lights. He wore a dark leather trench coat, holding a suppressed handgun casually at his side.
“I told you to come alone, Luca,” Matteo yelled, his voice echoing off the concrete walls.
“She’s carrying the ledger,” Luca shouted back, holding up his hands to show he was unarmed, holding only the legal deeds. “You wanted it hand-delivered. Here it is.”
Matteo smirked. He waved his free hand, signaling his mercenaries to lower their weapons slightly, allowing Luca and Emily to walk into the center of the warehouse.
They stopped twenty feet away from Matteo.
“The prodigal son returns,” Matteo mocked, looking at the legal deeds in Luca’s hand. “It’s funny, Luca. You spent the last six months pretending to be a legitimate businessman, but the moment your family is threatened, you come crawling back to the dirt just like a good mafia boss.”
“I’m not a boss anymore, Matteo,” Luca said coldly. “Take the deeds. Take the ledger. Call off the judge, and let Arthur rot in prison.”
“Oh, I’m definitely taking the empire,” Matteo laughed, raising his pistol and aiming it directly at Luca’s head. “But Arthur walks free tomorrow. Because once I put a bullet in your brain, I’m going to need Arthur’s muscle to keep the other families in line when I take the throne.”
Matteo cocked the pistol.
“Say hello to Isabella for me,” Matteo sneered.
But before Matteo could pull the trigger, Emily didn’t scream. She didn’t cower.
May you like
She reached into the pocket of her tactical jacket, pulled out a small, black remote detonator, and pressed the bright red button.
A deafening, catastrophic explosion ripped through the back wall of the warehouse, sending concrete, steel, and a dozen of Matteo’s mercenaries flying into the night sky.
