Chapter 5 - The Shadow of ChicagoThree days had passed since the incident in the study.
Life in the Moretti estate had changed dramatically—though outsiders would never know it. Vincent Bellini was gone; his absence was quietly explained away by staff rumors of an unexpected retirement to Italy. A new head butler, a stern, impeccably professional man named Henderson, had taken his place.
And Hannah Carter was no longer just a housekeeper.
Adrian had quietly promoted her to Executive Estate Manager, doubling her salary and setting up an unlimited medical trust for Ellie at the best pediatric allergy clinic in Manhattan. Furthermore, a private driver now picked up Hannah and Ellie from their Astoria apartment every morning in a sleek, armored black Lincoln Navigator.
But in the underworld, power vacuums never stayed empty for long.
Late on a foggy Tuesday night, deep inside a private VIP lounge in downtown Manhattan, a high-ranking emissary from the Chicago Syndicate sat across a mahogany table from two of Adrian’s top lieutenants.
“Vincent’s phone went dead three days ago,” the Chicago emissary, a slick-haired man named Paulie ‘The Snake’ Marcone, said, swirling a glass of bourbon. “The North Jersey docks were supposed to switch over to our shipping manifests this morning. Instead, Moretti’s men intercepted our trucks and threw our drivers into the East River.”
Across the table, Marco crossed his massive arms, a cold grin spreading across his face. “Mr. Moretti sends his regards.”
Paulie slammed his glass down, the amber liquid splashing over the rim. “Moretti thinks he’s untouchable because he sits in that fortress in Sands Point! Tell him the commission isn't asking anymore. If he doesn't hand over the shipping routes by the end of the week, the next package we send to Long Island won't be poison in a wineglass. It’ll be a war.”
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Marco leaned across the table, his face inches from Paulie’s.
“You can send whatever you want, Paulie,” Marco whispered softly. “Just make sure you say your prayers before you do.”
