Chapter 8 - The Council of Como
At 9:00 AM, the morning sun bathed the historic stone rotunda of the Villa Olmo on the shores of Lake Como.
The High Council of the Northern Syndicates had convened. Thirty senior capos, regional patriarchs, and financial directors sat around the horseshoe mahogany table beneath ancient frescoed ceilings.
Sitting in the front row of the gallery was Beatrice Moretti, dressed in black lace, holding an antique gold rosary, whispering to the elder beside her:
"Luca's temper has destroyed the estate. I have reports that gunfire broke out in his kitchen at dawn. The boy is unstable. He must be removed."
The double carved-bronze doors of the rotunda were thrown open.
Walking down the center aisle, dressed in an immaculate, bespoke three-piece charcoal suit that accentuated his towering, sovereign presence, was Luca Moretti.
Holding his hand, walking gracefully in a tailored emerald-green silk dress with her jasmine wreath replaced by a delicate diamond hairpin, was Sophia Moretti.
Beside them walked Elena, carrying two heavy aluminum security briefcases.
The rotunda fell into a dead, breathless silence.
Beatrice’s rosary beads snapped in half, scattering gold across the marble floor.
Uncle Silvio leaned forward from the center podium, adjusting his spectacles. "Signor Moretti. You called an extraordinary tribunal of the High Bloodlines."
"I did, Uncle Silvio," Luca replied, his deep baritone commanding effortless, pin-drop silence.
Luca motioned to Elena.
May you like
Elena opened the aluminum briefcases, slamming four stacks of decrypted ledger folios and forensic audio drives onto the center table before the elders.
"Let us review the accounting of the house," Luca announced with chilling precision.
