Chapter 9 - THE EMPTY CHAIR
The grand dining room of the Moretti estate was filled with the smoke of expensive cigars and the heavy scent of tension.
Thirty of Chicago’s most powerful capos sat around the massive mahogany table. At the head of the table, the chair that belonged to Luca Moretti was empty.
Dominic stood near the fireplace, looking appropriately solemn, though a faint, triumphant smirk played at the corners of his mouth.
Answer one: Dominic hadn't wasted a single minute. He had moved immediately to secure his power while the ashes of the warehouse were still smoking.
“It is a tragedy,” Dominic said smoothly, raising a glass of scotch. “Luca was a good man. But his temper made him reckless. He walked into a New York ambush tonight, and it cost him his life.”
A murmur of uneasy agreement rippled through the capos.
“The city is vulnerable,” Dominic continued, stepping toward the empty chair. “We cannot show weakness. As his underboss, it falls to me to take the reins. To secure our borders and avenge our fallen Don.”
Dominic reached out, placing his hand on the high leather back of Luca’s chair.
“If there are no objections,” Dominic said, preparing to sit.
Before he could pull the chair out, the heavy double doors of the dining room burst open.
“I object.”
The entire room froze.
Luca Moretti walked into the dining room, covered in concrete dust and dried blood, holding a tactical shotgun.
Behind him, his six loyal guards fanned out, their weapons raised. I stood quietly in the shadow of the doorway, watching the man who had ordered my husband's death realize he was utterly ruined.
Dominic’s face went completely, sickeningly white.
“Luca?” Dominic choked out, stepping back from the chair as if it had burned him.
The capos leapt to their feet in shock.
“Sit down,” Luca commanded the room, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that commanded absolute obedience.
Every capo sat instantly.
Luca walked slowly to the head of the table. He didn't look at his men. He looked only at Dominic.
“You look surprised, Dom,” Luca said, stopping three feet from his former best friend.
“Boss,” Dominic stammered, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Thank God. We thought you were dead. The news reported the warehouse collapsed.”
“It did,” Luca said coldly. “After you pressed the detonator.”
Gasps echoed around the table.
“He’s lying!” Dominic panicked, looking at the capos. “He’s lost his mind from the explosion! I’ve been here all night!”
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out the encrypted smartphone. He tossed it onto the mahogany table. It slid perfectly to a stop in front of the oldest capo.
“Play the audio file,” Luca ordered.
The capo tapped the screen.
The recording of Vincent Bellini and Vanessa echoed loudly through the silent dining room.
“I didn't get it from our accounts, Vanessa. I got it from Dominic.”
The color completely drained from the faces of Dominic’s loyal soldiers. They knew a death sentence when they heard one.
“You paid fifty thousand dollars to have my brother murdered,” Luca said, his voice deadly quiet. “You used Vanessa’s desperate father to arrange the hit on Michael, clearing your path to underboss. And when Daniel Morgan found the invoice, you ordered him killed to cover your tracks.”
Luca raised the shotgun, pointing it directly at Dominic’s chest.
“You betrayed my blood. You betrayed my trust,” Luca stated.
“Luca, wait!” Dominic screamed, falling to his knees. “I did it for the family! Michael was going to ruin us! He wanted to go legitimate! We would have lost everything!”
“We would have lost the blood money,” Luca corrected softly. “But we would have kept our honor.”
Open two: Luca has the proof, and Dominic is on his knees. But what will Luca do with the power he just reclaimed?
“Take him,” Luca ordered his guards, lowering the shotgun.
Dominic sobbed with relief, thinking he had been spared the ultimate punishment.
“Take him to the basement holding cell,” Luca clarified, his dark eyes devoid of mercy. “And lock him in with Vanessa. Then weld the door shut. They can starve together.”
Dominic screamed as two massive guards hauled him off the floor and dragged him out of the dining room.
The silence that followed was absolute. The remaining capos stared at Luca with a mixture of profound fear and immense respect.
Luca turned to the table.
“This family is finished with the old ways,” Luca declared, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. “The illegal shipping, the extortion, the violence. It ends tonight. Michael was right. We are going legitimate. Anyone who disagrees can walk out that door right now and never return. Anyone who stays, swears loyalty to the new rules.”
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Then, the oldest capo slowly stood up, placing his hand over his heart, and bowed his head to Luca.
One by one, the rest of the table followed.
The bloody reign of the Chicago syndicate was over. The clean era had begun.
Luca dismissed the men. As the dining room emptied, he dropped the shotgun onto the table and let out a long, exhausted breath.
He looked toward the doorway.
He saw me standing there, tears streaming down my face.
Luca walked over to me. He didn't look like a mafia boss anymore. He looked like a man who had finally put down a burden he had carried for two years.
He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against his dusty suit. I buried my face in his chest, crying for Daniel, crying for the justice he finally received, and crying for the immense relief that the nightmare was over.
“It’s done, Rachel,” Luca murmured, resting his cheek on the top of my head. “It’s finally done.”
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But as we stood there in the quiet dining room, the heavy mahogany doors burst open one last time.
TITLE: THE LAWYER IN THE HALL
