Chapter 8 - Dinner Invitation in HellThe massive digital display mounted on the conservatory wall flickered to life, cutting through the morning sunlight with a harsh, flickering blue glow.
The face of Don Vincente Moretti appeared on the screen. Moretti was an older man with silver hair slicked straight back, sharp hawk-like eyes, and an expensive silk robe draped over his shoulders. He was sitting in his private study at the San Marco waterfront villa, swirling a glass of dark red wine.
"Calcio Benevventi," Moretti said, his voice dripping with venom and mock amusement. "I must admit, hitting my shipping docks was a bold move. A very dramatic way to introduce yourself back into the syndicate wars."
Calcio stepped forward, standing directly in front of the screen. His shadow fell across the display, blotting out Moretti's image.
"You tried to steal my sister's research and threatened a child, Moretti," Calcio said, his voice low, steady, and utterly lethal. "You didn't start a business dispute. You signed your own death warrant."
Moretti laughed, a dry, grating sound. "A death warrant? Do you really think you can take down the entire San Marco syndicate over a university professor and a stray puppy? My enforcers control the ports, the judges, and half the city council. You're fighting a ghost war, Calcio. And tonight... your empire burns with you."
"My empire was built on blood, Vincente," Calcio replied, his lips curving into a terrifying smile. "Yours is built on glass. And tonight... I'm coming to smash it."
Click.
Calcio reached out and tapped the screen, cutting the transmission instantly. The room plunged back into a tense, heavy silence.
Elena gripped the edge of the marble table, her knuckles turning white. "Calcio... Moretti has an army. If you walk into his villa tonight, it's a suicide mission."
"It's not a suicide mission, Elena," Calcio said calmly, turning to face Stephano and Marco. "It's an execution. Stephano, mobilize the heavy strike teams. Secure the perimeter of Moretti's estate by 10 PM. No survivors who raise a weapon."
"Understood, Boss," Stephano nodded, his eyes gleaming with lethal anticipation.
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Calcio turned back to Vicki, who was watching him with wide, solemn eyes, still holding Nero in her arms. He walked over, knelt down one last time, and gently patted the little black puppy's head.
"Stay here with your mom, bambina," Calcio said softly. "When you wake up tomorrow morning... this city will belong to you and your mother again."
