Chapter 13
The library on the first floor was a fortress within a fortress. Heavy velvet drapes blocked out the windows, and the air was dense with the smell of old paper, leather, and cigar smoke. Four of Dante’s top capos stood gathered around a massive mahogany desk covered in satellite maps, floor plans, and tactical radios.
Dante stood behind the desk, his massive frame looming over a secure satellite phone set to speaker mode. Maya stood near the doorway, staying out of sight behind a leather armchair, unable to pull herself away from the unfolding nightmare.
A harsh, raspy voice echoed through the speaker, carrying the heavy accent of the older generation of New York mobsters.
"Dante," Lorenzo Moretti’s voice crackled through the static. "I hear you had a noisy dinner at Bellanote tonight."
Dante’s face was stone, his jaw set so tight the muscles twitched beneath his skin. "You sent four hitmen into a civilian restaurant where my daughter was eating, Lorenzo. You broke the Commission’s sacred law."
A dry, coughing laugh came through the speaker. "The Commission is old men clinging to dust, Dante. You have held the Brooklyn pier terminals for ten years, choking my shipping lines. You want your wife, Elena, returned alive? You sign the deed to Pier 42 and the Red Hook container yard over to my family by midnight tomorrow."
"Let me speak to my wife," Dante commanded, his voice deadly calm.
A brief pause filled the room with tension so thick Maya could barely breathe. Then, a woman’s fragile, trembling voice came through the line. "Dante... Dante, please..."
"Elena!" Dante leaned over the desk, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the polished wood. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm... I'm okay," Elena sobbed quietly. "Dante, don't give them—"
The sound of a heavy blow echoed through the speaker, followed by a sharp gasp of pain, and then Lorenzo’s voice returned. " midnight tomorrow, Dante. Or she goes into the East River in a barrel. Do not test me."
The line went dead with a harsh, flat tone.
Silence fell over the library. One of the capos, a fiery man named Mario, slammed his fist onto the mahogany table. "We mobilize every soldier we have! We hit their club in Queens, we burn their warehouse in the Bronx! We turn the city into hell until they give her up!"
"No!" Luca countered sharply. "If we hit them blindly, Lorenzo panics and kills Elena before we even cross the bridge. We don't know where he's holding her!"
"We sign the piers," Dante said quietly, his voice hollow.
The room froze. The capos stared at their boss in absolute shock.
"Boss, no!" Mario shouted. "If you surrender Pier 42, Moretti controls the entire harbor! He will starve our family out within six months! We will lose everything!"
"I do not care about the piers!" Dante roared, his voice echoing off the high ceiling like thunder. He struck the desk with his palm, rattling the heavy brass lamps. "I care about my wife! I care about my daughter having a mother!"
Maya couldn't hold back any longer. She stepped out from behind the leather armchair, her voice clear and resonant. "He’s bluffing."
Every man in the room snapped his head toward her, guns instantly shifting slightly under their jackets. Dante stared at her, his brow furrowing. "Maya, stay out of this."
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"Listen to me!" Maya insisted, stepping closer to the desk, defying the terrifying stares of the armed mobsters. "I heard his voice. He sounded desperate, not powerful. If he had total control, he wouldn't have sent men to attack Bellanote tonight to kidnap Sophia. He’s running out of time, Dante. He’s hiding somewhere he thinks you can't reach quickly."
Dante stared at Maya, his sharp gray eyes narrowing as he processed her words. "She's right," Dante muttered slowly, turning back to his maps. "Lorenzo doesn't have the backing of the other families for this. He's acting alone, operating out of a dark corner. We don't sign anything. We find where he's holding her."
