Chapter 8 - Fire on Lake Michigan
Midnight struck over Chicago under a torrential downpour. Thunder rattled the reinforced glass windows of the Moretti estate as Richard Moretti barked orders at his remaining loyalists.
"Move the crates! The helicopter will be at the private pad in twenty minutes!" Richard screamed, his face twisted in panic. "Carmine Rossi has sent hit squads into the city! We need to be out of U.S. airspace before sunrise!"
Suddenly, the compound’s perimeter spotlights exploded in a shower of sparks. The heavy iron gates were torn off their hinges with a deafening screech as an armored tactical truck smashed straight through the security barrier.
Automatic gunfire shattered the rainy night.
Richard gasped, stumbling backward toward his desk. "Shoot them! Kill whoever it is!"
The heavy mahogany doors of the mansion were kicked off their frame. Walking through the smoke and rain was Alexander Moretti. He wore tactical body armor, wielding a modified combat shotgun, his face grim and covered in soot. Flanking him were not just his most loyal lieutenants, but a specialized strike team provided by Don Carmine Rossi himself.
Richard raised a trembling pistol. "Alexander! You traitor! You chose that civilian whore over your own bloodline?"
Alexander didn't flinch. He walked slowly down the grand staircase, his boots echoing with finality.
"Her name is Claire Sterling," Alexander said, his voice deadly quiet beneath the rolling thunder. "And she was ten times the man you ever were."
"I built this family!" Richard shrieked, firing a wild shot that lodged into the banister near Alexander's hip. "I made you a king! Without me, you are nothing!"
Alexander closed the distance in three long strides, swatting the pistol from his father's withered hand and slamming the old man against the marble fireplace. The silver-tipped cane clattered uselessly across the floor.
"You didn't make me a king," Alexander growled, pressing his forearm against Richard's throat. "You made me a monster. You made me use my own newborn son as biological harvest material. You plotted to murder my wife and raise my children in a slaughterhouse."
"Alexander... please..." Richard wheezed, his eyes bulging as oxygen fled his lungs. "I'm your father..."
"My father died the day he decided Claire was disposable," Alexander whispered.
Alexander didn't pull the trigger. Instead, he tossed Richard to the floor like a sack of trash as federal sirens wailed in the distance. Blue and red flashing lights illuminated the rain-slicked driveway.
Dozens of FBI agents, accompanied by the United States Attorney for the Northern District of Illinois, stormed through the shattered foyer with rifles raised.
"Richard Moretti, you are under arrest for racketeering, conspiracy to commit murder, and international money laundering," the lead agent announced, snapping heavy steel cuffs around the old man's wrists.
Richard looked up at Alexander in sheer disbelief. "You... you called the Feds? You broke omertà? You destroyed our family name!"
Alexander stood tall, tossing his own tactical vest and shotgun onto the marble floor.
"I handed the Justice Department every encrypted ledger, every offshore account, and every dirty deed you ever signed, Richard," Alexander said with a cold, liberating smile. "The Moretti syndicate is dead. And you will spend the rest of your miserable life dying in a federal penitentiary."
May you like
As Richard was dragged screaming into the pouring rain, Alexander walked into his empty study. He pulled out his personal phone, dialed the federal prosecutor, and said calmly:
"I’m ready to surrender myself for questioning. Just make sure the Sterling family in Florida gets the confirmation."
