Chapter 19 - THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF MORETTIThe silence in the underground bunker was absolute, broken only by the heavy, ragged breathing of the two brothers.
Victor stared up into Aleandro’s eyes, his expression twisted with a mix of fury and disbelief. "You... you destroyed the entire network. Without those servers, the syndicate’s offshore links are blind."
"Good," Aleandro said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "The syndicate dies tonight. I spent twenty years living in the shadow of our father’s ghost and your paranoia. I built this empire with my own sweat, not your stolen blueprints."
"You think you can just walk away?" Victor choked out, blood trickling from a split lip where he had hit the desk. "The underworld doesn't let go of a Don Moretti. If I go down, the entire board of directors will tear you apart from the inside."
"The board of directors is already empty," Mateo announced, stepping out from behind the smoking server rack with a tablet in his hand. "Federal marshals just raided the corporate headquarters in Manhattan. Every remaining loyalist linked to Victor’s offshore shell companies has been detained under the RICO act. We are completely clean."
Aleandro looked down at his older brother, the man who had shaped his nightmares and driven his ambition. The urge to pull the trigger burned hot in his chest—a primal, dark instinct demanding blood for blood.
Slowly, deliberately, Aleandro lowered the hammer of his gun. He didn't shoot. Death was too easy, too quick an escape for a man who loved power above all else.
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"You aren't going to die tonight, Victor," Aleandro whispered, his voice like sliding glaciers. "You're going to spend the rest of your life in a supermax federal cell where no one will ever hear your name again. You wanted to be a ghost? Enjoy the dark."
He gestured to Mateo, who stepped forward with a pair of heavy industrial steel cuffs, snapping them around Victor’s wrists with brutal efficiency as the older man thrashed and cursed into the damp air.
