Chapter 5 - The Council of WolvesThree days later, while Leo was undergoing surgery to realign his leg, I held a very different kind of meeting.
The private dining room of a high-end steakhouse downtown had been swept for bugs twice. Four men sat around the mahogany table: Marcus, my enforcer; Salvatore, who controlled the port authority and shipping lanes; Viktor, our financial wizard; and me at the head of the table.
None of them were eating. They were looking at me with expressions of cautious concern. In our world, taking in two orphaned children wasn't just a charitable act—it was a massive liability.
“Boss,” Viktor said, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. “Word on the street is that you’ve turned your downtown penthouse into a fortress. Guards at every elevator. Bulletproof glass installed in the nursery.”
“And your point, Viktor?” I asked, swirling a glass of bourbon.
“My point is that you’re exposing yourself. For five years, you stayed in the shadows. People whispered about Thomas Moretti, but nobody knew where to hit you because you had no family left. Now? You’ve got a six-year-old nephew with a broken leg and a three-year-old niece.”
Salvatore grunted, leaning forward. “Viktor’s right, Thomas. The Syndicate out of Houston—the Alvarez family—they’ve been looking for an excuse to move into Austin. If they find out you’re distracted by dirty diapers and bedtime stories, they’ll test the borders.”
I set the bourbon glass down. The sound of crystal hitting wood echoed sharply in the silent room.
“Let them test the borders,” I said softly.
I looked around the table, meeting each man’s eyes until they looked away.
“For three months, I thought those kids were safe,” I continued, my voice dropping into a lethal, low register. “I thought letting them stay in that suburban house was respecting my brother’s wishes. I was wrong. I was weak. I let a parasite torture my brother’s blood.”
I leaned forward, placing both palms flat on the table.
“Listen to me very carefully. The Moretti name isn't just about shipping lanes and political leverage anymore. It’s about protection. Anyone—anyone—who looks at those children sideways, anyone who thinks for a second that I’m distracted... I want you to burn their world to the ground. Is that clear?”
May you like
Marcus nodded slowly, a grim smile touching his lips. “Consider it done, Boss. The Houston boys won't even know what hit them.”
“Good,” I said, standing up and buttoning my suit jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Leo’s surgery is over, and my nephew expects me to bring him a cheeseburger the second he wakes up.”
