Chapter 4 - The Red Rabbit Backpack
The main hall of the Moretti estate looked like a courtroom from the Middle Ages.
Thirty men and women stood in rigid rows beneath the towering crystal chandeliers. On one side stood the heavy hitters of the Moretti syndicate—capos, lieutenants, and trusted guards wearing dark suits with hidden shoulder holsters. On the other side stood the house staff—the cooks, the maids, the groundskeepers, and the cellar masters.
Alejandro walked slowly down the center aisle, his hands folded behind his back. Bruno walked a half-step behind him, his hand resting ominous on the butt of his pistol.
"Three hours ago," Alejandro began, his voice echoing off the high vaulted ceilings, "someone in this room placed a dose of synthetic protein toxin into my personal wine decanter. They knew my medical history. They knew the study camera was offline. They knew I would sit down at four o'clock to write my daily ledger."
A violent whisper ran through the assembled group. The capos looked at each other with sudden, dangerous suspicion. Hands twitched near jackets.
"If that plan had succeeded," Alejandro continued, halting at the front of the hall, "by five o'clock, this family would have been plunged into a bloody civil war. The Lucchese clan would have moved on our docks in Brooklyn. Our territory in Manhattan would have been carved up like scrap meat. And whoever paid for that bottle of poison would be sitting in my chair right now."
He turned, his dark eyes sweeping over the faces of his most trusted men.
"I am alive," Alejandro said, lowering his voice to a dangerous whisper, "not because of our ironclad gates. Not because of our armored cars. Not because of the thirty armed men I pay to protect this perimeter. I am alive because a four-year-old child had the courage to step into a room where a man was dying, and the intelligence to use her own medication to save him."
He gestured to the side door. Sarah stepped into the hall, holding Emma’s hand. The little girl looked intimidated by the crowd of tall, stern-looking men, clinging tightly to her mother's leg, her red rabbit backpack slung over her shoulders.
Alejandro walked over to them. In front of thirty hardened criminals and high-society staff, the most feared mafia boss in New York dropped to one knee on the hard marble floor so he was eye-level with the little girl.
"Emma," Alejandro said softly.
Emma peeked out from behind her mother. "Yes, Mr. Quiet Man?"
A few of the hardened capos in the back shifted uncomfortably, stunned to hear anyone speak to Don Moretti in such a manner.
"Your mother told me something tonight," Alejandro said, his face remarkably gentle. "She told me that the needle you used on me... was the last one you had."
Emma nodded solemnly. "It was my extra one. Mommy said if I eat a peanut or if a bee bites me, I need it or I go to sleep and can't wake up. But you were going to sleep and couldn't wake up."
Alejandro felt a strange, tight knot form in his chest—a feeling he hadn't experienced since the day his daughter Kiara died. This small, fragile child had literally given away her own life-saving shield to protect a stranger.
"Bruno," Alejandro said, without turning around.
"Yes, Don Alejandro?"
"Call the chief of pediatrics at Mount Sinai. Tell him I am purchasing a permanent, lifetime supply of auto-injectors, medical care, and specialized treatment for Emma Carter. Tell him if her mother ever receives a bill for a single cent, I will buy the entire hospital and fire him personally."
Sarah gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. "Mr. Moretti... no, please, that's too much—"
"It is nowhere near enough," Alejandro interrupted, standing up and looking Sarah in the eyes. "Your daughter saved my life, Sarah. In my world, a debt of blood is paid in blood. A debt of life is paid with everything I own. You and Emma will never want for anything again. You will no longer live in the basement. You are under my personal mantle."
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He then turned back to the crowd, the gentleness disappearing from his face instantly, replaced by a wall of black ice.
"As for the traitor," Alejandro declared, his voice cutting through the hall like a razor, "you have until sunrise to step forward. If you do, your death will be quick. If I have to find you myself... I will burn down everything you have ever loved before I let you die."
