Chapter 9 - THE SHADOWS OF PALERMOHalf a world away, in a sprawling, sun-drenched villa overlooking the cliffs of Mondello in Palermo, Sicily, news of Vincenzo Moretti’s death finally arrived.
Don Salvatore Falcone, the aging patriarch of the Sicilian Syndicate, slammed his heavy gold signet ring down onto the marble table. The impact cracked the stone.
"Dead?" Falcone roared in rapid Italian, glaring at his trembling courier. "Vincenzo Moretti was a veteran of a hundred turf wars! How could he be taken out by a boy and a nameless hotel maid?"
The courier swallowed hard, trembling violently. "It wasn't just the boy, Don Salvatore. According to our sources in Chicago, the girl... the maid who leaked the betrayal... she dismantled the entire trap from the inside. She anticipated every move before it even happened."
Falcone stood up, pacing across the mosaic floor, his brow furrowed in deep, dangerous thought. A hotel maid who reads Italian, memorizes blueprints, and outsmarts seasoned syndicate assassins was not an accident. She was a weapon.
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"Find out who she is," Falcone commanded coldly, staring out at the Mediterranean Sea. "Dig up every record of her family, her past, her origins. If Dominic Moretti has found a new queen in Chicago, I want to know her weaknesses before she decides to expand her empire across the Atlantic."
Back in Chicago, unaware of the storm brewing across the ocean, Amelia stood before her private office mirror at the Bellhaven Grand, adjusting her diamond earrings. She wasn't hiding anymore. She was ready.
