Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Shadows
With the legitimate businesses under federal audit, the Chicago underworld began to sense weakness. A mob boss who loses his daughter, his wife, his clean shipping routes, and his emotional stability all in the span of two weeks is no longer a predator; he is wounded prey.
Rival families from Detroit and southern Illinois started making aggressive moves on Moretti territory. Shipments were intercepted, nightclub distributors stopped paying their weekly dues, and whispers circulated through the underground that Vincent Moretti was spending his nights drunk inside a mausoleum at Graceland Cemetery, clutching a child's pink teddy bear.
One evening, as I was leaving my new apartment in Lincoln Park—a modest, sunlit two-bedroom with tall bay windows where I could paint in peace—a sleek black SUV pulled up to the curb.
The window rolled down. It wasn't Vincent. It was Salvatore Moretti, Vincent’s uncle and the oldest capo in the syndicate.
""Claire,"" the old man said, his gravelly voice weary. ""Get in for five minutes. We need to talk about the boy.""
""I have nothing to say to the Moretti family, Salvatore,"" I said, pausing on the sidewalk under the streetlamp. ""Keep your distance.""
""He’s going to get himself killed, Claire,"" Salvatore said bluntly, resting his weathered hands on the doorframe. ""He hasn't slept in twelve days. He took two bullets to the shoulder three nights ago because he walked straight into an ambush on 22nd Street without drawing his weapon. The doctors pulled the lead out of him on his kitchen counter because he refused to go to the hospital. He’s looking for a bullet to end it.""
I looked at Salvatore, feeling an icy knot in my chest. A year ago, hearing that Vincent was injured would have sent me into a blind panic, rushing to pack wound dressings and pray beside his bed. Now? I felt only a dull, hollow ache for the man he used to be before power rot his soul.
""He chose to stand in the line of fire,"" I told his uncle softly. ""He made that choice every single day for seven years. When Lily needed him to be a hero, he wasn't there. Tell him to go to a hospital or don't. It is no longer my life.""
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Salvatore stared at me, his old eyes heavy with sorrow and deep respect. He slowly nodded. ""You were the only thing that kept him human, Claire. Without you, he's just a ghost tearing up the city before he rots. I won't bother you again.""
The SUV pulled away into the evening traffic, leaving me alone in the cool autumn breeze. I looked up at the stars above Lake Michigan and whispered, ""Sleep well, Lily. Mommy is staying strong.""
