Chapter 6 - When Blood Turns Cold
The fallout from the Autumn Gala was catastrophic.
Within forty-eight hours, the Romano organization’s legitimate subsidiaries began to collapse like a house of cards. Supply lines dried up. Credit unions froze operational payrolls. Longtime political allies stopped answering Matteo’s encrypted calls.
In the dark basement of an Italian restaurant in the North End, Matteo sat surrounded by his remaining five capos. The air was thick with cheap cigar smoke and panic.
""We have to take action, Matteo,"" spat Frankie ""The Bull"" Vitucci, an aggressive crew boss who had run loan-sharking operations for twenty years. ""Your wife just stripped our transit hubs. The docks are locked. Word on the street is the Romano house is bankrupt and bleeding out. If a woman can humiliate you in front of the whole city, why are we kicking up thirty percent of our street profits to you?""
A heavy, suffocating silence descended on the basement.
Matteo didn't shout. He slowly set down his glass of water. His face was gaunt, his eyes hollowed by insomnia and grief, but the lethal predator that had built this empire didn't vanish overnight.
In a fraction of a second, Matteo reached across the table, grabbed Frankie by the collar of his expensive leather coat, and slammed his forehead down onto the concrete table. Glasses shattered. Frankie let out a muffled scream as Matteo pressed a serrated steak knife against his jugular.
""Listen to me very carefully, Frankie,"" Matteo whispered, his voice vibrating with terrifying calm. ""Every dollar you made in the last nine years was protected because my wife was smarter, cleaner, and better than all of us combined. You will speak of her with absolute reverence, or I will feed you to the crabs in Boston Harbor before sunrise. Do you understand me?""
Frankie choked out a frantic nod. Matteo shoved him backward, letting the man collapse into his chair, gasping for air.
Matteo wiped a speck of dust from his sleeve. ""The meeting is over. Vacate the Hanover properties by Friday. We take the hit. We reorganize legitimately. Nobody touches Sophie. Nobody approaches her. If anyone even breathes in her direction, I will personally pull the trigger.""
The men scrambled out of the basement in terrified compliance.
When the room cleared, Marco approached from the shadows. ""Boss... we received a report from our surveillance detail outside the Hawthorne Seaport tower.""
Matteo’s head snapped up. ""Is she safe?""
""She’s safe, but... the Moretti family from New York just arrived in town.""
A cold dread pooled in Matteo's stomach. The Morettis were a ruthless, old-school mafia clan who had tried to muscle into the Boston ports for over a decade. They had been kept at bay only because the Romanos appeared impenetrable.
""Don Moretti thinks the Romano family is fractured,"" Marco continued grimly. ""His younger son, Leo Moretti, was seen dining near the Seaport. He knows Sophie left you. He thinks she’s a loose thread with billions in liquid capital and the keys to the Boston waterfront.""
Matteo’s hands clenched so hard his fingernails dug into his palms until blood welled up.
""They think she's a pawn,"" Matteo whispered, the fire in his veins reigniting for the first time in days. ""They think because I lost her, she's defenseless.""
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""Matteo, you can't go to war right now. The feds are watching every corner.""
""I don't give a damn about the feds,"" Matteo growled, grabbing his black overcoat. ""I let my family treat her like an afterthought for nine years. I will burn this entire city to the ground before I let an outsider make that same mistake.""
