Chapter 3 - Shadows of the Past
Aleandro paced the length of his massive study like a caged predator.
He needed to think clearly, but the image of Isabella in danger clouded his usually sharp mind.
Who had the power and the foolishness to attack the Moretti family so directly?
The Russians were currently honoring a peace treaty.
The Irish factions were too busy fighting among themselves in Hell's Kitchen.
That left only one true suspect.
The Lucchese Syndicate.
Don Carmine Lucchese had been trying to claim the Brooklyn waterfront for five years.
Carmine was a dying, desperate old man who wanted to leave an empire to his reckless sons.
Aleandro slammed his fist onto the polished mahogany desk.
The listening device was a Lucchese signature.
They preferred cowardice and espionage over facing a man eye to eye.
Suddenly, his encrypted phone buzzed with an unknown caller ID.
Aleandro answered it on the first ring, keeping his breathing perfectly steady.
“Moretti,” he answered.
“Your bride looks beautiful when she cries, Aleandro.”
The voice belonged to Vincenzo Lucchese, Carmine’s eldest son.
Aleandro’s grip on the phone tightened until the plastic casing cracked slightly.
“If you leave a single mark on her skin, I will end your entire bloodline.”
Vincenzo chuckled, a wet and sickening sound.
“She is perfectly safe, for now.”
“But if you want her to stay that way, you are going to sign over the deed to the South Pier.”
“You have until midnight to bring the documents to the old slaughterhouse on 9th Street.”
“Come alone, or we send her back to you in a dozen different boxes.”
The line went dead.
Aleandro stared at the dark screen of his phone.
May you like
They thought he would surrender his empire to save his heart.
They were about to learn why Brooklyn belonged to the Morettis.
