Chapter 4 - A Viper in the Shadows
By midnight, the basement staff quarters were a thing of the past.
Mama and I were moved into a grand suite with velvet curtains, a king-sized bed softer than a cloud, and a balcony overlooking the sparkling lights of the city. For the first time in my life, I had a bath with bubbles that smelled like strawberries, and clean, warm pajamas made of silk.
While I slept soundly with my plush rabbit, down in the mansion’s reinforced subterranean facility, a very different scene was unfolding.
Marcus was strapped to an iron chair, his knee bandaged just enough to keep him awake.
Alejandro stood in the dim light, pouring himself a glass of straight bourbon. Beside him stood his younger brother and right-hand officer, Lorenzo Moretti.
"Who paid you, Marcus?" Lorenzo asked, tossing a thick dossier onto the metal table. "We checked your offshore accounts. Half a million dollars was transferred from a shell corporation in Zurich three days ago."
Marcus spat blood onto the floor, sneering through cracked teeth. "You think you're invincible, Alejandro? You think you own this city? You're weak! You let servants wander around your private floor! You let a little brat dictate your fate!"
Alejandro took a slow sip of his drink. He didn't look angry; he looked bored.
"The brat saved my life," Alejandro said coldly. "You tried to take it. There is a vast difference in intelligence between a four-year-old child and you, Marcus."
Alejandro stepped closer, leaning down until his shadow completely engulfed the bound traitor.
"I'll ask once more. Who gave you the synthetic toxin?"
Marcus laughed maniacally. "It doesn't matter if you kill me! The contract is already set! Don Russo knows you survived! He knows about the little maid's girl who saved you! Do you really think Russo will let a kid stay alive when she ruined a fifty-million-dollar syndicate hit?"
Lorenzo’s expression hardened instantly. Don Russo was the boss of the rival Syndicate operating out of the East Coast—a ruthless, vicious old man who had been fighting the Moretti family for control of the shipping ports for over a decade.
"Russo knows about Emma?" Lorenzo whispered, a dark chill running down his spine.
"Everybody knows!" Marcus cackled. "The underworld is already talking! The great Alejandro Moretti owes his life to a servant's kid! She's your weakness now, Alejandro! Target her, and you break the Don!"
Alejandro didn't flinch. Instead, a terrifying, dark smile spread across his face—a smile that made even his own brother step back.
"She isn't my weakness, Marcus," Alejandro whispered softly into the traitor's ear. "She is my crusade."
With a nod from Alejandro, Lorenzo stepped forward to handle the rest of the interrogation. Alejandro turned and walked out of the basement, his long coat sweeping behind him like the cloak of the Grim Reaper.
He took the private elevator directly up to the third floor.
He didn't make a sound as he pushed open the heavy mahogany door to the Master Guest Suite.
The soft glow of a nightlight illuminated the room. Mama was fast asleep on the couch, exhausted from the terror of the day. On the massive bed, I was curled up in a tiny ball, holding my pink rabbit tightly against my chest.
Alejandro walked silently to the side of the bed.
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The man who had just ordered the destruction of a rival mob family sat down carefully on the edge of the mattress. He reached out his giant, scarred hand—a hand that had taken dozens of lives—and gently pulled the warm blanket up over my shoulders.
"Sleep well, little one," Alejandro murmured into the quiet night. "Tomorrow, the city burns for you."
