Chapter 25 - The Trial of Stefano Bellini
Stefano Bellini’s trial began eleven months after his arrest.
By then Isabella was seven months pregnant.
Adrien hated the courthouse stairs.
He hated the crowds.
He hated cameras photographing his wife.
Most of all, he hated that Bellini smiled every morning as though the courtroom belonged to him.
The prosecution called thirty-eight witnesses.
Bankers.
Former police officers.
Union officials.
Samuel Grant.
Evelyn Bellini.
Dr. Marchetti.
Michael Trent.
Victor Salvatore.
Even Carlo Donati.
Each testimony removed another piece of Bellini’s mythology.
Then Adrien was called.
The courtroom filled beyond capacity.
Rebecca Shaw approached.
“Mr. Moretti, what was your relationship with the defendant?”
“He was a family associate.”
“Friend?”
Adrien looked at Bellini.
“I believed so.”
“What changed?”
“My home was attacked by men he financed.”
Bellini’s attorney stood.
“Objection.”
The judge overruled.
Adrien explained the hidden vault.
Lorenzo’s recordings.
The poisoning evidence.
The Bellini ledger.
He did not portray himself as innocent.
That was deliberate.
Under cross-examination, Bellini’s lawyer attacked.
“Mr. Moretti, you expect this jury to believe you suddenly became a law-abiding businessman?”
“No.”
The attorney blinked.
“No?”
Adrien looked at the jury.
“I expect them to believe evidence.”
“Did you lead a criminal organization?”
“Yes.”
The courtroom murmured.
Isabella watched calmly.
“Did you benefit from illegal operations?”
“Yes.”
“Did you use intimidation?”
“Yes.”
“Violence?”
Adrien paused.
“Yes.”
The defense attorney smiled.
“So why should anyone trust you?”
Adrien looked at Bellini.
“They shouldn’t trust me because I say something.”
Then back at the jury.
“They should trust bank records, recordings, medical evidence, and the testimony of people who have nothing to gain by lying.”
The smile disappeared.
“You made a cooperation agreement.”
“Yes.”
“You received consideration.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Prosecutors agreed to evaluate my cooperation when reviewing historical financial charges.”
“So you benefit.”
“Yes.”
Adrien leaned slightly forward.
“But my wife is pregnant.”
The attorney frowned.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.”
Adrien’s voice remained steady.
“I could have kept fighting the way men like Bellini taught us. More guns. More secrets. More graves.”
The courtroom became silent.
“I decided my child would not inherit that.”
Bellini stared at him with hatred.
“That is my benefit.”
The defense tried to strike the statement.
The jury had already heard it.
Two weeks later, closing arguments ended.
The jury deliberated for fourteen hours.
Guilty.
Racketeering conspiracy.
Bribery.
Witness intimidation.
Obstruction.
Financial fraud.
Conspiracy connected to Lorenzo Moretti’s poisoning.
Not every charge succeeded.
Enough did.
Bellini remained expressionless as verdict after verdict was read.
Then his eyes found Adrien.
For decades, Bellini had controlled people by discovering the one thing they feared losing.
Adrien finally understood why Bellini could no longer control him.
Adrien had already chosen what he was willing to lose.
The empire.
The territory.
The reputation.
Everything except his family and his future.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded them.
“Mr. Moretti! Do you feel vindicated?”
“No.”
“Do you feel justice was served?”
“That’s for the court.”
“What happens now?”
Adrien looked at Isabella.
She smiled.
“Now I go home.”
A reporter shouted.
“Are you still the boss of the Moretti family?”
Adrien stopped.
For years that title had defined him.
Boss.
Don.
Heir.
Man everyone feared.
He turned.
“No.”
Cameras flashed.
“What are you?”
Adrien smiled.
“A husband.”
He placed a hand gently against Isabella’s stomach.
“And soon, hopefully, a father who knows what he’s doing.”
The reporters laughed.
Isabella whispered, “You absolutely do not.”
Adrien looked at her.
“Not helping.”
They walked toward the car.
Inside, Isabella suddenly stopped.
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
Adrien panicked instantly.
“The baby kicked.”
He froze.
“Now?”
She took his hand and placed it against her stomach.
Nothing.
Then a small movement.
Adrien’s entire face changed.
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
People on the courthouse steps watched the feared Adrien Moretti stand motionless with tears in his eyes because his unborn child had kicked his hand.
Isabella leaned into him.
Behind them, Bellini was led toward a federal transport vehicle.
Ahead of them, Chicago moved beneath a bright spring sky.
May you like
One empire was ending.
Another life was beginning.
