Chapter 12 - The Confrontation
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The grand dining room of the Moretti estate was a cavernous space, dominated by a massive mahogany table that could seat thirty men. Today, it seated only one.
Silvio sat near the head of the table, nervously tapping his fingers against a crystal water glass. He looked up, forcing a confident, arrogant smile as the heavy double doors swung open.
Aleandro walked into the room. He didn't wear a suit jacket. His white shirt was rumpled, his sleeves rolled up to expose the dark tattoos wrapping around his forearms. He looked dangerous, unhinged, and entirely calm.
The heavy doors clicked shut behind him, the deadbolts engaging with a loud, final sound.
"Aleandro, cousin," Silvio said, standing up, though his voice wavered slightly. "Your men locked me in here. What is the meaning of this? The Russians never showed up at the hotel. It was a ghost tip."
"Sit down, Silvio," Aleandro said, walking slowly down the length of the table.
Silvio hesitated, then slowly lowered himself back into the chair. "I don't understand."
Aleandro didn't stop at the head of the table. He walked right up to Silvio, leaning over him, placing his massive hands flat on the polished wood, trapping his cousin in the chair.
"Did you really think," Aleandro whispered, his voice dropping to a terrifying, lethal hiss, "that you could steal my cargo, kidnap a woman from my house, and I wouldn't find out?"
Silvio’s face completely drained of color. The arrogant facade crumbled instantly. He opened his mouth to deny it, but the absolute certainty in Aleandro’s eyes choked the lie in his throat.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Silvio stammered, sweating profusely. "What woman?"
Aleandro reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, metallic object. He tossed it onto the table in front of Silvio. It was the heavy padlock Marco had cut from the boiler room door.
"Elena is sleeping upstairs," Aleandro stated coldly. "She is safe. And she is very talkative."
Silvio panicked. He scrambled backward, trying to push his chair away, reaching frantically for the weapon concealed in his jacket.
He never made it.
Aleandro moved with blinding speed. He grabbed Silvio by the throat, hoisting the grown man entirely off his feet, and slammed him brutally backward onto the mahogany dining table. Crystal glasses shattered, scattering across the wood.
Silvio gasped for air, his hands clawing desperately at Aleandro’s iron grip.
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"You brought treason into my house," Aleandro roared, the full weight of his wrath finally breaking free. "You threatened a child under my roof! You thought you could take my throne, Silvio? You are nothing but a coward hiding in the dark!"
"Aleandro, please!" Silvio choked out, his eyes bulging with terror. "The New York Commission… they backed me! They wanted you gone! I was just following orders!"
