Chapter 2 - The Skeleton in the Moretti Family Vault
The tension in the dining room became suffocating as Michael stepped back, his eyes darting frantically toward the exit as if calculating his chances of escaping his older brother's wrath. But in the Moretti domain, nobody ran from Luca.
Four armed bodyguards stationed near the double doors immediately shifted their weight, blocking every possible exit route. The guests started whispering among themselves, realizing that they were trapped inside a live-action drama far more dangerous than any mafia film produced in Hollywood.
“Michael,” Luca repeated, his voice dangerously low, carrying the weight of a death sentence. “I asked you a question. What were you doing in our father’s room on the night of his stroke?”
Michael forced a harsh, nervous laugh, trying to regain his footing. “You’re actually believing a senile old woman and a cheap maid over your own brother? Father died of natural causes, Luca! The autopsy report confirmed it. His heart simply gave out after a lifetime of stress building this family empire.”
“Did it?” Teresa spoke up, her voice trembling no longer with fear, but with a fierce, burning grief. She pushed her chair back, standing up with my help. She looked directly at her younger son, her eyes full of profound betrayal. “Your father’s heart didn't give out, Michael. You gave it a push.”
Vanessa rushed forward, grabbing Luca’s arm with manic desperation. “Darling, please! Look at her! She’s hallucinating! This entire family is turning against you because of a disgruntled employee and an unstable matriarch. We need to call the private doctors right now and have them sedate her!”
Luca slowly turned his head to look at Vanessa. His expression was so devoid of emotion that it made her recoil in horror. He didn't pull away from her touch immediately, but the look in his eyes told everyone that Vanessa had just crossed an invisible line from which there was no return.
“Vanessa,” Luca said softly, his voice like cracking ice. “When did you start helping my brother plan my mother’s relocation?”
Vanessa’s face drained of all color. “What... what are you talking about? I didn't plan anything! I only wanted peace for this family!”
“Don't lie to me,” Luca interrupted, his voice cutting through her excuses. “You ordered the guest house prepared for her departure two days ago. I saw the receipts on your desk this morning. You thought I was too busy with the syndicate council to notice the logistics of my own home.”
I watched quietly, holding Teresa’s arm to keep her steady. The layers of deceit were peeling away piece by piece, exposing the rot at the core of the Moretti household. Michael and Vanessa hadn't just wanted Teresa out of the way; they had wanted her silenced permanently because she knew the truth about the patriarch's mysterious death four years ago.
“Luca,” Michael snarled, realizing that his lies were no longer working, his true predatory nature finally showing through his expensive suit. “If you do this—if you tear our family apart over a hysterical old woman's fairy tale—the commission will tear you apart. You think you rule Chicago alone? Without my alliances, your seat at the table is vulnerable!”
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Luca took a slow, deliberate step toward his brother. The absolute aura of power radiating from him made even the hardened mob captains sitting at the dinner table swallow hard.
“My seat at the table,” Luca whispered, closing the distance between them, “was built on blood and loyalty. And you just signed your own death warrant.”
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