Chapter 8 - The Price Of Treason
The press conference exploded into absolute bedlam. Shouts echoed off the vaulted ceilings as reporters shoved microphones into Vincent's trembling face.
""Slander! Absolute slander from a disgraced former nurse!"" Vincent bellowed, sweat pouring down his temples, ruining his carefully rehearsed image. ""She lost her license for drug diversion! She has zero credibility!""
""She does not need credibility, Vincent,"" Dante said, stepping beside his wife. He reached into his coat and handed a thick leather folio directly to the federal marshal standing near the front row. ""Because the United States Attorney’s office already has your phone recordings.""
Vincent recoiled as if slapped across the face. ""What?""
""Did you really believe Dr. Callahan would take a twenty-year prison sentence for your fentanyl distribution network at St. Jude's?"" Dante asked, his voice calm, chilling, and lethal. ""Callahan turned state's evidence two hours ago in exchange for witness protection. He provided the digital encrypted ledgers showing that you paid him four hundred thousand dollars to alter the dosage logs and forge Miss Vance’s medical credentials.""
Elena leaned into the microphone, tears of vindication shimmering in her eyes. ""You killed my sister Clara by deliberately cutting off her authorized medication shipments to force her to sell Harrow Street! You forged Dante's signature on the dock shipping containers to start a gang war and cover your paper trail!""
Sophie looked up at Vincent from Dante’s side. In her clear, childlike voice that echoed through the silent rotunda, she pointed a tiny finger at the sweating politician. ""You sent the bad men with the loud guns to break my window. I saw your picture on the man's phone!""
The flashbulbs erupted in a blinding storm. Vincent backed away from the podium, his eyes darting frantically toward the side exits.
Two federal agents in trench coats stepped out from behind the marble pillars, blocking the exits. Behind them stood Senator Hayes, flanked by four armed federal marshals.
""Vincent Moretti,"" the lead marshal announced, unholstering a pair of chrome handcuffs. ""By order of the Federal District Court, you are under arrest for racketeering, conspiracy to commit murder, corporate sabotage, and federal healthcare fraud.""
""No! This is a setup! Dante is the boss! He runs everything!"" Vincent screamed, thrashing as two agents forced his arms behind his back and slammed his face against the marble wall. ""Dante, you can't do this to your own blood!""
Dante stepped forward until he was six inches from his cousin's ear. ""Blood protects blood, Vincent. You hunted women and children. You are no longer Moretti.""
As Vincent was dragged down the marble steps in front of fifty live television broadcasts, Dante turned back to Elena and Sophie. He dropped to one knee before the little girl, ignoring the flashing cameras and the stunned crowd of reporters.
May you like
""Sophie,"" Dante murmured softly. ""I believe I still owe you nine more flowers.""
Sophie giggled, her tiny hand reaching out to touch his lapel, where the yellow daisy was pinned neatly beside his pocket square. ""You paid your debt, mister.""
