Chapter 4 - The Interrogation in the Cellar
Beneath the historic stone foundations of the Romano mansion lay a subterranean vault built during the Prohibition era. Cool moisture seeped through century-old granite blocks, and a single halogen bulb hung from a rusted chain, casting harsh yellow light over Elliot Romano.
Stripped of his designer suit and tied to a reinforced steel chair, Elliot looked nothing like the arrogant socialite who had boasted of his maritime empire on the dock. His nose was bruised, his expensive Italian dress shirt torn, and his teeth chattered in the chilly underground air.
The heavy iron door groaned open. Dominic walked in, followed by Gavin, who now wore his shoulder holster once again, his cleared clearance badge hanging proudly from his lapel.
""Uncle Dominic..."" Elliot pleaded, his voice cracking. ""I told you everything in the car. It was Frankie Moretti! He found out about my gambling debts in Atlantic City! I owed eight million dollars. He said if I didn't help clear the board, they would butcher me piece by piece!""
Dominic pulled up an identical steel chair and sat down directly across from his nephew. He took out an antique gold cigar cutter and clipped a fresh Cuban cigar, lighting it with slow, deliberate precision.
""You owed eight million dollars,"" Dominic stated plainly, exhaling a thick plume of fragrant white smoke. ""And yet, three days ago, a Swiss bank account registered to an offshore shell company in the Cayman Islands under your mother’s maiden name received a wire transfer of forty-five million dollars. That doesn't sound like a desperate man paying off gambling thugs, Elliot. That sounds like a paid hitman.""
Elliot’s eyes widened with sheer panic. ""How... how did you find that account? It was encrypted through three blind trusts!""
""You forgot that I bought the Swiss clearing firm last November,"" Dominic replied with chilling calm. ""Nothing moves through Zurich without a summary crossing my desk. You didn't just want your debts cleared, Elliot. You wanted to auction off our family's shipping ports to the highest bidder in Europe. You were going to let the Morettis take the blame, watch them get annihilated in the inevitable gang war, and then walk into the aftermath as the spotless savior of the Romano legacy.""
Elliot slumped into his bonds, realizing that every lie he prepared had already been dismantled before he even spoke it.
""Who supplied the acoustic detonator, Elliot?"" Gavin demanded, stepping into the harsh light. ""A device like that isn't bought on a street corner in South Boston. It came from a military contractor.""
Elliot looked up, his lip curling into a bitter, resentful sneer. ""What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway. You pride yourself on honor, Uncle Dominic, but you’re just a killer in a ten-thousand-dollar suit! Go ahead, shoot me!""
Dominic took another measured draw from his cigar. ""Kill you? No, Elliot. Death is a quick release. You are family, and family does not get executed in cold blood in my house. Instead, every single dollar you stole, every offshore penny, and your entire trust fund will be liquidated tonight. You will be handed over to the Federal Bureau of Investigation tomorrow at dawn, along with a complete dossier of your financial crimes, tax evasion, and attempted mass homicide.""
Elliot’s face contorted into sheer dread. ""No! Not the feds! The Morettis have guys inside the federal penitentiary! If I go there as a failed co-conspirator, they’ll shank me in the yard within forty-eight hours!""
""Then you had better start singing to the prosecutors quickly so they place you in maximum protective custody in Colorado,"" Dominic said coldly, rising from his chair. ""You chose your path, nephew. Now you walk it.""
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Dominic walked toward the heavy door, stopping just before the threshold. ""Gavin, call our legal team and tell them to prepare Clare Bennett’s employment contract for the foundation. Then, send two armored sedans to Boston. It's time Frankie Moretti understood that the waters of Rhode Island belong to the Romano family.""
As the iron door slammed shut, Elliot’s desperate screams echoed off the ancient granite walls, swallowed by the cold dark beneath the earth.
