Chapter 7 - The Reckoning
At 3:00 AM, six blacked-out armored SUVs cut through the pouring rain, speeding down the dark stretches of the Saw Mill River Parkway toward an estate in Long Island owned by Joseph Lucchese—the ruthless head of the rival Lucchese crime syndicate.
Inside the lead vehicle, Alejandro sat in the back seat, checking the action on an unsuppressed sidearm. Beside him sat Bruno, quietly communicating with five tactical teams positioning themselves around the Lucchese compound.
"Boss," Bruno reported, hanging up his encrypted radio. "Team A has secured the outer perimeter. The Lucchese guards didn't even expect us. They think you're lying dead in your study."
"Good," Alejandro said coldly. "Confidence makes men stupid."
Ten minutes later, the iron gates of the Lucchese mansion were blown off their hinges by a targeted breaching charge.
The assault was precise, overwhelming, and absolute. Before the Lucchese guards could react, dozens of Moretti syndicate soldiers swarmed the compound, neutralizing security with non-lethal suppressive fire and securing every hall within three minutes.
Alejandro walked through the shattered front doors of the Lucchese estate, stepping over broken glass and disarmed guards, his heavy coat damp from the rain.
In the grand study upstairs, Joseph Lucchese—a heavily built, silver-haired man in his sixties—was dragged out from behind his desk by two Moretti soldiers and thrown onto his knees. Standing in the corner of the room, wide-eyed and shivering in fear, was Dominic Mercer, Dr. Mercer’s twenty-three-year-old son.
Joseph Lucchese looked up, his jaw dropping in sheer horror as Alejandro Moretti walked into the room, alive, well, and towering over him.
"You..." Lucchese gasped, his voice trembling. "You're... you're supposed to be dead. Mercer said—"
"Mercer failed," Alejandro said smoothly, pulling up a chair and sitting directly in front of the kneeling mob boss. "A four-year-old child had more honor, more strength, and more intelligence than your entire family, Joseph."
Lucchese’s face turned gray. He looked at the armed soldiers surrounding the room and realized, in a single terrifying moment, that his empire had collapsed in a single night.
"What... what are you going to do?" Lucchese whispered.
Alejandro leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. "I am going to take everything you own. Your docks, your construction contracts, your waste management accounts, and your estates. You will sign them over to the Moretti family before the sun comes up."
"And if I refuse?" Lucchese spat, trying to gather a final shred of defiance.
Alejandro looked over at Dominic Mercer, who was weeping in the corner.
"If you refuse," Alejandro said quietly, "I leave you in this room with my men. If you sign, you live out the rest of your days in a federal prison in Colorado, where I will ensure you are kept safe... and completely powerless."
Lucchese stared into Alejandro’s eyes, searching for a single grain of mercy or hesitation, and found none. Broken and defeated, the old Don sagged his shoulders.
"Bring me the papers," Lucchese muttered softly.
Alejandro stood up and walked over to young Dominic Mercer. The boy cowered, expecting a bullet.
Instead, Alejandro placed a firm, heavy hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Your father made a grave mistake, Dominic," Alejandro said softly. "He compromised his soul to save your life. Because of that, your debt to the Lucchese family is erased. But your father will answer for his crimes in a court of law—not by my gun, but by the state."
May you like
The young man choked back a sob, dropping to his knees. "Thank you... thank you, Mr. Moretti..."
Alejandro turned toward the window, looking out at the rising dawn breaking over the Atlantic coastline. The long, dark night was finally coming to an end.
