Chapter 6 - The Shadow of Julian Moretti
In the penthouse office of Moretti Harbor Logistics on the 40th floor of the Chicago Financial Tower, Julian Moretti was pouring himself a glass of twenty-year-old bourbon.
Dressed in a bespoke Brioni suit, Julian stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking Lake Michigan, his phone pressed to his ear.
“What do you mean she was taken from the apartment?!” Julian snarled into the receiver.
“Boss,” his private investigator stammered from the line. “Our surveillance team arrived at the flower shop at dawn. The apartment was completely cleaned out. Neighbors say three black Suburbans with government-grade plates escorted Elena and the kid at midnight.”
Julian’s hand froze around his crystal glass.
“Did Dante find them?” Julian whispered, sweat breaking out along his hairline.
“We don’t know, sir. But Dante’s security detail locked down St. Jude’s fourth floor for six hours last night.”
Julian slammed the glass onto his mahogany desk, shattering it.
For five years, Julian had meticulously positioned himself as Dante’s sole heir, assuming that Dante’s refusal to marry or father children would leave the multi-billion-dollar Moretti syndicate in his hands.
If that little girl carried Dante’s blood, Julian’s entire empire of fraud, stolen port revenues, and illegal arms kickbacks would be completely pulverized.
BZZZ.
Julian’s private phone vibrated on the desk.
The caller ID flashed: DANTE MORETTI.
Julian drew a slow, trembling breath, forcing his voice into its usual smooth, subservient tone before tapping the speaker.
“Dante, brother! I was just reviewing the European container manifests—”
“Be at the family boardroom at two o’clock, Julian,” Dante’s deep baritone cut through the line like a guillotine. “We have an emergency inheritance covenant to ratify.”
The line disconnected.
Julian stared at the dead phone, his face turning the color of wet chalk.
May you like
He picked up his secondary burner phone, dialing his mercenary commander in South Chicago.
“Deploy the strike unit to the Lake Forest estate right now,” Julian hissed. “Burn the east wing to the ground. Kill the woman and the child before two o’clock!”
