Chapter 4 - The Strategic Web
The morning sun broke over the estate, cutting pale, cold stripes through the heavy velvet curtains of my study.
I hadn't slept. The dossier on Marco Vane lay spread across the mahogany desk, a web of shell companies, illicit shipping manifests, and intercepted communications that painted a picture of an aggressive, reckless coup. Vane wasn't just trying to take over the syndicate; he was planning to partner with an East Coast cartel known for moving synthetic product that violated every code of conduct we had established over the decades.
If Vane succeeded, the Moretti name wouldn't just be overthrown—it would be dragged through the mud of street-level drug trade and corporate corruption.
There was a soft knock at the door.
“Enter,” I said.
Gabriel Shaw stepped inside, looking grim. He held a secure satellite tablet in his hand. “Boss, we’ve locked down the perimeter cameras and secured all communication lines. Victor’s personal phone was wiped remotely the second we took him down to the cells, but we managed to pull the ping logs before the kill switch wiped the memory.”
“Where was his last transmission sent?” I asked.
“A private dock in the industrial harbor,” Gabriel replied, placing the tablet on the desk. “Property of Vane Holdings. Marco Vane has been holding meetings there with three of our regional captains—Donatello, Rossi, and Morelli. They’re scheduled to meet at noon today to ratify the leadership transition.”
I stood up, buttoning my suit jacket and adjusting my cuffs. “Ratify a transition that hasn't been approved by the sitting head of the family. That’s not a transition, Gabriel. That’s treason.”
“What do you want to do, Boss? Do we roll in heavy? Hit the dock with twenty men and clean house?”
“No,” I said coldly. “A frontal assault gives Vane the narrative he wants—he’ll claim I’ve gone mad, paranoid in my old age, turning my guns on my own people. We need to dismantle his foundation before we cut off the head.”
“How?”
“By letting him think he’s winning until the exact moment the trap springs shut.”
I walked over to the window, looking out across the rain-washed gravel driveway where Elena and Sophia were safely being escorted to a secondary vehicle for relocation to a secure safehouse. The little girl looked back towards the house once, clutching her stuffed bear, before climbing into the back of the armored SUV.
That child had saved my life. The least I could do was ensure she grew up in a world where men like Marco Vane didn't dictate the rules.
“Gabriel,” I said, turning back around. “Get the private jet prepped at the airfield. We’re going to the harbor. But we aren't going with an army. We’re going with an invitation.”
May you like
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed in understanding. “An invitation they can’t refuse?”
“An invitation to dinner,” I replied with a faint, dangerous smile. “Let’s see how confident Marco Vane feels when he realizes his inside man has failed, and the target he thought he was poisoning is standing right in front of him.”
