Chapter 18 - The Truth of the Fire"A clever rumor, wasn't it?" Vincent Moretti smiled, taking a slow sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the balcony railing. "When your father tried to seize complete control of the syndicate, someone had to burn the old guard to the ground so a new empire could rise. And who better to rule the ashes than the man who lit the match?"
Vincent’s dark eyes shifted down from Dante, locking directly onto me. A sickening, predatory grin spread across his face.
"And look at this," Vincent purred, leaning over the balcony railing. "Elena’s little sister... or is it her daughter? The resemblance is truly haunting. I missed killing Elena on that rainy night two years ago. The bomb in her car was supposed to vaporize the entire family. Imagine my surprise when I found out her twin hid her baby away, and that child grew up to look identical to her mother."
"You killed my sister," Dante growled, taking a step forward, raising his rifle toward the balcony. "You murdered my wife."
"I secured our legacy, Dante!" Vincent shouted back, his polite facade cracking to reveal a raving, psychotic fanaticism. "The Moretti name cannot be ruled by sentimentality! By a weakling who falls in love with a waitress and adopts a bastard child! A true Moretti rules in blood and fire!"
"You're insane," I yelled, stepping up beside Dante, my hand resting firmly over his clenched fist holding the gun. "You're not a legacy. You're just a coward hiding behind ghosts."
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Vincent’s face twisted into an ugly, venomous snarl. "Kill them," he commanded, raising his hand.
From the shadows behind Vincent on the balcony, three heavy-duty sniper rifles rose, their red laser sights painting the floor around us.
