Chapter 7 - The Unbroken Rosary
The ballroom descended into dead, suffocating silence. Not a fork scraped; not a breath was drawn. Three hundred of the most dangerous individuals in North America stood frozen between the entrance and the dais.
Bernardo recovered his composure with an ugly, menacing scowl. He set his glass down with enough force to crack the base. ""I don't know what kind of cheap theater you're playing, Bellandi, but bringing a street whore in costume to a private gathering is an insult to the Commission. Remove her before my men carry her out in pieces.""
Four of Bernardo’s armed security guards stepped forward, reaching inside their tuxedos.
Instantly, the click of twenty semi-automatic pistols resounded from the perimeter of the room. Adrian’s men, disguised as catering staff and private security contractors, drew their weapons in unison, covering the exits and every guard in Moretti’s detail.
Adrian stepped forward, his eyes locking onto Bernardo with venomous disdain. ""Touch her, Bernardo, and there won't be enough left of you to bury in your family plot. You are speaking to Elena Caruso, sole surviving heir to Don Antonio Caruso, legitimate head of the Atlantic Maritime Syndicate.""
""Antonio had no surviving children!"" Bernardo barked, sweat now beading across his forehead. ""His daughter died in the fire in Palermo! I have the autopsy reports! I have the death certificates signed by the prefect of police!""
""You have forged papers bought from crooked bureaucrats with the money you stole from her father's safe,"" Dominic’s voice boomed from the back as he stepped into the light, holding a thick leather dossier bound with brass hinges. ""Thirteen years ago, Antonio Caruso gave me the original charter of incorporation for the docks, along with his genetic record and the master deeds. He knew you were planning his murder, Bernardo.""
Dominic walked down the center aisle, placing the dossier directly onto Don Carmine Lucchese’s table. ""Examine the signature, Don Carmine. You witnessed Antonio sign the original charter in 1998. Tell this room who holds the blood right.""
Old Carmine put on his wire-rimmed glasses with trembling hands. He opened the ledger, his eyes scanning the yellowed parchment, then looked up at Claire, who stood tall and unyielding beneath the chandeliers.
""It is Antonio’s seal,"" Carmine declared, his gravelly voice carrying across the entire hall. ""And the girl carries the Caruso bloodline. By the ancient laws of the Commission, no contract signed by Bernardo Moretti regarding the Atlantic ports is valid without her consent.""
Murmurs of fury erupted among the table captains. The New Jersey bosses slammed their fists onto the tables, realizing they had been swindled into investing hundreds of millions into fraudulent contracts.
Bernardo’s eyes darted wildly across the room. He realized the ground was crumbling beneath his feet. ""She's an impostor! A trick cooked up by Bellandi to take over my territory! Kill them both!""
Bernardo lunged forward, drawing a snub-nosed revolver from his inner pocket, aiming it straight at Claire’s chest.
Before the trigger could be pulled, Claire reached into the pocket of her emerald gown, produced a heavy, worn wooden rosary wrapped around a brass cylinder, and slammed it onto the banquet table with thunderous force.
""Look at this, Bernardo!"" she shouted in the raw, guttural dialect of Santa Rosalia. ""Look at the rosary your mother gave mine before you murdered your own blood for twenty pieces of silver!""
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The ancient words struck Bernardo like a physical blow. His hand shook; his eyes dilated in superstitious horror. In the mountains of Sicily, cursing an unbroken rosary held by the righteous heir was believed to bring the wrath of God directly onto the bloodline.
That half-second of hesitation was all Adrian Bellandi needed.
