Chapter 4 - The Illusions of a Usurper
At twelve-fifteen in the afternoon, the dining room at the Four Seasons was packed with Chicago’s elite.
Enzo sat at the corner booth, wearing a tailored navy suit with pearl cufflinks.
Bianca was seated beside him, laughing softly as she cut a piece of steak for her young son Luca.
Enzo loved the image he projected to the world.
He believed he had successfully balanced his brutal street reputation with the veneer of a civilized family patriarch.
He had spent the morning ignoring four frantic messages from Dante’s phone.
He assumed Dante had gotten drunk or lost money at the underground baccarat tables again.
He took a sip of his vintage Barolo and placed his hand over Bianca’s manicured fingers.
She leaned in, whispering how much Luca adored his new private school uniform.
She told him that with Carmela’s irrational behavior becoming so extreme, the Lake Forest house would be much calmer once things were settled.
Enzo nodded with an easy, arrogant grin.
He told her that Carmela would come crawling back within forty-eight hours once her credit cards were suspended.
He believed a woman who spent her days arranging flowers and waiting on his return had no other options.
He had already ordered his accountant to cut off her auxiliary bank lines to teach her a lesson.
The heavy glass doors of the restaurant swung open.
Two men in dark suits walked past the maitre d' without slowing down.
They were followed by an official process server wearing an ordinary beige trench coat.
The dining room slowly quieted as the trio marched straight toward the corner booth.
Enzo did not even look up until the beige envelope landed directly on top of his white linen plate.
The server announced the contents in a clear, carrying voice that echoed across the dining room.
Notice of Emergency Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.
Notice of Immediate Revocation of Corporate Operating Rights.
Notice of Freeze of Romano Logistics Infrastructure.
Enzo’s eyes flared with sudden, dangerous fury.
He stood up, towering over the process server with his fist clenched at his side.
He snarled that whoever sent this garbage would find themselves floating in Lake Michigan by evening.
The server did not flinch.
He simply stated that Mrs. Carmela Moretti was represented by Feld & Associates, and that copies were already filed with the county clerk.
Bianca gasped, dropping her silverware onto her plate with a sharp clatter.
Enzo’s cell phone began to vibrate violently against the mahogany table.
It was not one call.
It was seven calls cascading one after another from his primary banks and his port captains.
He answered the third line, his voice rising in an uncontrollable roar.
The voice on the other end belonged to the chief terminal master at the Calumet docks.
The man was stammering in pure panic.
He told Enzo that private security units carrying Romano family credentials had seized the cranes twenty minutes ago.
Every container of imported goods was impounded under federal customs holds authorized by Carmela's legal team.
The financial artery that funded every soldier, every politician, and every safehouse Enzo owned had been severed in one clean stroke.
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He looked down at the divorce petition, his heart thudding violently against his ribs.
For the first time in ten years, Enzo Moretti felt the cold grip of genuine terror.
