Chapter 7 - The Gathering Storm in BrooklynWhile quiet celebration filled the east guest suite of 520 Park Avenue, a darker, more volatile atmosphere hung over an abandoned warehouse down by the Brooklyn docks.
Enzo Marchetti stood beneath a flickering overhead sodium light, surrounded by a dozen armed enforcers. Across from him stood Salvatore and two other former Ferraro capos who had grown uneasy with Alessandro’s sudden, erratic behavior.
“The boy has lost his mind,” Enzo spat, leaning heavily on his silver cane. “He threw away a ten-million-dollar shipping route and a dynastic marriage for a housekeeper. If we let him get away with this, the other syndicates in Chicago and Las Vegas will smell blood in the water. They’ll think the Ferraro family is weak.”
“What do you propose, Don Marchetti?” Salvatore asked, crossing his arms. “Alessandro still controls the private security network and the New York harbor terminals. If we move against him openly, it’ll be a bloodbath.”
“We don't need to move against him openly,” Enzo smiled, a cruel, calculating expression spreading across his wrinkled face. “We take away his foundation. We grab the girl. Once Alessandro realizes his precious little maid is leverage in our hands, he’ll crawl back on his knees, beg for forgiveness, and sign the marriage contract within twenty-four hours.”
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“And if he doesn't?” Salvatore asked.
“Then we eliminate him,” Enzo said coldly. “And we take the empire for ourselves.”
