Chapter 5 - The Luciano Ultimatum
Before the tactical team could secure Robert, the heavy industrial roll-up doors at the rear of the warehouse were obliterated with an explosive crash.
Two heavy black armored suburbans burst into the bay, tires smoking as they slid sideways into defensive positions.
Armed men in tactical gear spilled out from the vehicles, taking cover behind the doors with submachine guns trained on Matteo’s perimeter.
From the passenger seat of the lead vehicle stepped Dominic Luciano, the ruthless forty-year-old underboss of the New York crime syndicate.
"Well, well," Dominic shouted over the roar of the idling V8 engines, adjusting his leather gloves. "The legendary Matteo Moretti, holding court in a scrap yard over family drama."
Adrian’s face lit up with desperate hope as he scrambled toward the New York vehicles. "Dominic! Help me! He’s going to kill us!"
"Get behind the truck, you pathetic worm," Dominic spat, not even glancing at Adrian.
Matteo stood his ground in the center of the open floor, completely unbothered by the sudden arrival of twelve hostile guns. His own tactical operators shifted seamlessly, establishing interlocking fields of fire that turned the warehouse into a lethal kill zone.
"You're a long way from Manhattan, Dominic," Matteo said smoothly, crossing his hands behind his back.
"I came to collect what your idiot brother sold me," Dominic replied, tapping his foot against the concrete. "The Chicago freight routes belong to the Luciano family now. We paid three million in preliminary earnest money to your family's account."
"You paid a thief using stolen credentials," Matteo countered. "The Moretti syndicate does not honor contracts written in betrayal."
Dominic chuckled, a low, menacing rasp that echoed off the metal rafters.
"You think you have a choice, Matteo? We’ve got fifty soldiers stationed around the perimeter of your lakefront estate right now. While you’ve been playing detective in Gary, my men have already surrounded the east wing."
Matteo’s left eyebrow twitched, but his breathing remained perfectly rhythmic.
"My scouts reported that you've got a pretty little maid and her cute kid tucked away in the master suite," Dominic sneered, pulling out his phone. "One call from me, and my boys burn that wing to the ground with everyone inside."
Matteo tilted his head slightly, a dark, terrible smile curling the corner of his lips.
"Call them, Dominic," Matteo said softly.
Dominic frowned, unsettled by the complete absence of panic in the older boss. "You think I'm bluffing?"
"I don't think you're bluffing," Matteo replied, taking a step forward. "I know you're dialing a dead frequency."
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Matteo pulled a small remote detonator switch from his coat pocket and held it up under the floodlights.
"Did you really believe I would leave my estate unprotected while I hunted a rat?" Matteo whispered. "Check your phone, Dominic. See if your boys answer."
