Chapter 7 - Feeding the Wolf a Lie
Three days later, the trap was set.
It was midnight in the subterranean command center beneath the vineyard. The air hummed with the quiet, rhythmic whir of server racks and satellite communication relays.
Aleandro sat at the stainless-steel console, staring at a laptop screen displaying a live, encrypted audio feed transmitting directly to an off-site terminal monitored by Julian Cross’s handlers at Vanguard Security.
For three days, Isabella had continued her routine—kissing him goodbye in the morning, asking about wedding invitations at dinner, and sleeping beside him at night. But tonight, Aleandro had left a fabricated logistics report open on his desk—a document detailing a massive, fictitious arms and cash shipment moving through the Brooklyn docks at dawn.
It was the ultimate bait.
Marco stood behind him, checking the chambers of a suppressed submachine gun. "The Vanguard team is mobilizing, Boss. Three vehicles just pulled out of their safehouse in Queens. They’re heading straight for Pier 8."
"Let them move," Aleandro said coldly, his fingers resting motionless on the desk. "They think they're walking into a multi-million-dollar raid to seize incriminating evidence against the Moretti family. They don't know they're walking into an open grave."
"And Isabella?" Marco asked, hesitating for the fraction of a second. "She thinks you're going to be at the docks at dawn. She sent the transmission an hour ago."
Aleandro closed his eyes for a single heartbeat. When he opened them, all warmth had vanished from his gaze.
"She did what she had to do to save her brother," Aleandro said flatly. "And now, she’s going to watch how the Moretti family handles people who mistake our hospitality for weakness."
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He stood up, shrugging on a heavy black wool overcoat, and slid his Sig Sauer into his shoulder holster.
"Let's go, Marco. It's time to close the circle."
