Chapter 6 - The Interrogation
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The basement of the Moretti estate was soundproof, constructed of thick concrete and heavy steel doors, originally designed to withstand a siege during the brutal syndicate wars of the previous decade.
Lorenzo descended the stairs slowly, his footsteps echoing ominously in the silent corridor.
Two of his massive guards stood outside a heavy metal door. They nodded respectfully as Lorenzo approached, pulling the heavy door open.
Mrs. Gable was sitting in a wooden chair in the center of the small, windowless room. The arrogant, pristine housekeeper was gone, replaced by a terrified, shivering woman whose perfect hair was disheveled.
When Lorenzo walked in, she immediately began to weep hysterically.
"Mr. Moretti, please!" Mrs. Gable sobbed, trying to stand, but a guard firmly pushed her back into the chair. "I didn't mean any harm! I was only trying to keep discipline in the house! You know how these lower-class girls are, they need a firm hand!"
"You struck a pregnant woman," Lorenzo stated coldly, walking slowly around her chair like a predator calculating a kill. "You forced her to do heavy labor against medical advice. You starved her."
"She was lazy!" Mrs. Gable cried defensively.
"And my father?" Lorenzo asked softly, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper.
Mrs. Gable froze. All the color drained completely from her face.
"I found the note," Lorenzo continued, stopping directly in front of her. "I saw the cold oatmeal. You left him to freeze in that room, neglecting the man who built the empire that pays your exorbitant salary."
"He... he doesn't know what's going on anyway!" Mrs. Gable blurted out, a desperate, fatal mistake. "He's basically a vegetable! I had an estate to run!"
Lorenzo’s hand shot out, grabbing Mrs. Gable by the throat with terrifying speed and lifting her slightly out of the chair.
She choked, her hands scrambling frantically at his iron grip, her eyes bulging in sheer terror.
"My father’s mind is sharper than yours will ever be," Lorenzo hissed, his gray eyes blazing with absolute murder. "He remembers every cold meal, every insult, every time you abandoned him in the dark. And he remembers the maid who treated him like a king while you treated him like trash."
Lorenzo threw her back into the chair in disgust. He pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hand.
"I am not going to kill you, Mrs. Gable," Lorenzo said smoothly, though the threat in his voice was far more terrifying than death.
"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you!" she wept, gasping for air.
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"I am going to hand over the ledgers proving you embezzled three hundred thousand dollars from my estate to the federal authorities," Lorenzo continued, a dark smile touching his lips. "But before the FBI arrives to arrest you for grand larceny, I am going to have my men drop you in the worst neighborhood in the Bronx. With no money. No coat. In the middle of this blizzard. You will experience exactly what it feels like to be cold, hungry, and entirely helpless."
Mrs. Gable screamed, a horrific, desperate sound, as Lorenzo’s guards hauled her out of the chair and dragged her toward the stairs, dragging the tyrant out of her own castle.
