Chapter 6 - Confrontation in the Armory
Deep beneath the main house, inside the reinforced concrete armory that doubled as a holding cell, the air smelled of gun oil, damp stone, and old iron.
Ryan Mercer sat tied to a heavy steel chair, his expensive gray suit stained with dust and sweat. His hair was disheveled, and the smug, untouchable confidence that had defined his career was entirely shattered.
The heavy steel door swung open.
Alessandro walked in, followed closely by Luca Marino. Alessandro pulled up a steel folding chair, sat down directly in front of Ryan, and rested his forearms on his knees.
“Comfortable, Ryan?” Alessandro asked smoothly.
Ryan glared up through swollen eyes. “Go to hell, Alessandro.”
“I might,” Alessandro replied mildly. “But you’ll be arriving there first. Now, let’s talk about your associates in New York. Which captain on the board was funding your little coup?”
Ryan let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “You think I worked alone? You think a single board member wanted to overthrow you? Alessandro, your father built this empire on blood and fear. The world has moved on. The other captains are tired of your rules, your code, and your hesitation to modernize. They want profit without morality.”
Alessandro didn't flinch. “Name them.”
“Go find them yourself,” Ryan spat, his eyes wild with defiance. “You can lock me away, you can kill me, but you can’t stop what’s already in motion. By sunrise, the commission in New York will declare war on the Moretti family.”
Alessandro stood up slowly. He looked down at Ryan with a gaze so utterly devoid of mercy that the traitor finally felt true, paralyzing terror grip his chest.
“There will be no war, Ryan,” Alessandro said quietly. “Because while you were sitting in your office plotting my downfall, Luca was paying a visit to the New York commission with a complete copy of your financial ledger.”
Ryan went as rigid as a board. “What... what did you say?”
“Your contacts in New York didn't want to overthrow me, Ryan. They wanted a scapegoat,” Alessandro explained, a cold smirk touching his lips. “When Luca showed them proof that you were skimming from their syndicate accounts to fund your personal investments in Boston, they thanked us for bringing it to their attention.”
Ryan’s jaw dropped. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. The brilliant strategist, the master manipulator who had thought himself two steps ahead of everyone, realized he had been played like a cheap violin.
“Luca,” Alessandro said, turning toward his enforcer.
“Boss?”
“Transfer Mr. Mercer to our private shipping freighter docked at Pier 44. Have him delivered directly to our associates in Palermo. Let them decide how a traitor to the Moretti family spends his remaining years.”
“Consider it done,” Luca grinned, grabbing the back of Ryan’s chair and hauling him to his feet.
May you like
Ryan shrieked, kicking and thrashing as Luca dragged him toward the exit. “No! Please! Alessandro, don't do this! Have mercy!”
The heavy steel door slammed shut, cutting off Ryan’s desperate pleas once and for all.
