Chapter 2 - The Sins Of The Past
Alessandro stared at the smiling face of the man his syndicate had brutally eliminated two years ago.
The chilling realization hit him with the force of a runaway freight train.
He was currently looking at the grieving widow and orphaned child created by his own ruthless empire.
He quickly masked his shock, nodding politely to Emma before turning abruptly to leave the kitchen.
He retreated to his heavily fortified private study and locked the solid mahogany doors behind him.
He walked over to his massive wooden desk and pulled out a secure, encrypted satellite phone.
He dialed Victor Hale, his deeply trusted and utterly ruthless head of security.
“Victor,” Alessandro said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low octave. “I need the complete file on a man named Daniel Carter.”
Victor remained silent for a brief moment on the other end of the secure line.
“Carter was the civilian casualty from the Queens port operation two years ago, Boss,” Victor replied carefully.
“Why are you suddenly asking about a closed file?”
“Because his widow is currently scrubbing my floors, Victor,” Alessandro growled.
He demanded to know exactly who gave the direct order to execute an innocent construction worker.
Victor explained that Carter had accidentally witnessed their men burying a massive shipment of illegal weapons.
The order to silence him had come directly from Alessandro’s former underboss, a traitor named Silvio.
Silvio had been executed a year ago for attempting to overthrow the entire Moretti family.
Alessandro hung up the phone and poured himself a heavy glass of expensive bourbon.
He had spent three years grieving his own tragic loss, entirely blind to the immense suffering he caused others.
He looked at the framed photograph of Isabella and Arya sitting on his desk.
He suddenly realized he had the unprecedented power to actually fix this specific tragedy.
He could never bring Daniel Carter back, but he could absolutely ensure Sophia and Emma never suffered again.
A sharp knock on the study door interrupted his heavy, brooding thoughts.
Rosa, the elderly cook, nervously peaked her head into the dark room.
“Excuse me, Mr. Moretti,” she whispered. “But there are two men in the driveway asking to see Sophia.”
Alessandro frowned, setting his crystal glass down onto the desk.
“Did they give a name, Rosa?”
“They said they were from the collection agency regarding her late husband’s unpaid debts,” she answered.
Alessandro walked swiftly out of the study and headed straight for the grand entrance hall.
He pushed open the heavy double doors and stepped out onto the marble portico.
Two large, heavily muscled men in cheap suits were standing aggressively near Sophia’s beat-up sedan.
They were openly threatening her, demanding she hand over the keys to her car immediately.
Alessandro immediately recognized the crude, ugly tattoos marking their thick necks.
They were not debt collectors; they belonged to the rival Falcone crime syndicate.
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He realized the Falcones were actively targeting the widow of the man his syndicate had murdered.
And they were doing it right on his own heavily guarded front lawn.
