Chapter 6 - The Rome Transmission
The subterranean communications bunker beneath the Moretti administrative tower was a high-tech fortress of encrypted fiber-optic cables, server racks, and massive wall-mounted monitors displaying live satellite feeds of Mediterranean shipping lanes. As Luca and I walked into the control room, senior communications technicians snapped to attention. On the central high-definition screen, the face of Carlo Vitale materialized in crisp, crystal-clear detail. The wealthy Roman businessman looked significantly less confident than he had during dinner the previous evening; his tie was loosened, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. “Moretti,” Vitale began in English, attempting to project an air of casual authority. “I trust we can put last night’s unfortunate misunderstandings behind us. The commercial contracts regarding the downtown properties—” “The contracts are void, Carlo,” Luca interrupted, his voice cutting through the speaker system like a razor. Vitale’s expression tightened. “You cannot unilaterally cancel a multi-million-dollar syndicate agreement! Without my capital backing, your shipping lanes across the western Mediterranean will face severe regulatory hurdles!” Luca stepped closer to the microphone console, leaning his hands against the metal frame. “Let me make something crystal clear to you, Carlo,” Luca said, his voice dropping into that quiet, deadly register that always signaled absolute finality. “Your syndicate front companies are already being audited by international maritime authorities. Your assets in Rome have been frozen by federal investigators acting on the evidence your own daughter-in-law—or rather, my former fiancée—conveniently left on our servers.” Vitale went completely pale. “You... you handed our financial records over to federal prosecutors?” “I didn't hand them over,” Luca replied smoothly. “I delivered them personally via encrypted courier at four this morning.” Vitale opened his mouth to protest, but Luca cut him off with a single, brutal gesture. “If any vessel flying a Vitale flag enters Moretti waters again, it won't be detained by customs. It will be sunk. Have a pleasant morning in Rome, Carlo.” Luca reached out and hit the disconnect switch, plunging the main monitor back into a static-filled screensaver. He turned around, sliding his hands into his pockets, and looked down at me with an approving nod. “Well handled, Emily. You’re learning fast.”
