Chapter 10 - THE BETRAYAL UNMASKED
The marble lobby of the Moretti social club was eerily quiet.
Crystal chandeliers cast a cold, glittering light over the grand staircase leading to the executive penthouse.
Gabriel led the assault team through the ground floor with lethal precision.
Security guards dropped one by one, disarmed and neutralized before they could even sound the alarm.
We reached the grand double doors of the penthouse on the fifth floor.
Gabriel kicked the doors open.
Donato Moretti sat behind a massive mahogany desk, sipping a glass of rare scotch as if he were expecting guests.
He was a silver-haired man in his late sixties with cold, reptilian eyes and an expensive tailored suit.
“Gabriel, my boy,” Donato drawled smoothly, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I wondered when you'd finally crawl out of the ashes.”
Gabriel kept his pistol leveled directly at his uncle’s chest.
“It's over, Donato,” Gabriel said, his voice echoing in the vast penthouse. “The ledger is in my hands. Your capos are either dead or standing outside your door.”
Donato chuckled softly, setting his glass down.
“You really think a ledger and a few disloyal grunts are enough to bring down forty years of empire?”
He pressed a silver button underneath his desk.
Instantly, twenty armed men emerged from hidden wall panels behind Donato, leveling their assault rifles directly at us.
We were surrounded.
Gabriel cursed under his breath, stepping in front of me to shield my body.
“Drop your weapons, Gabriel,” Donato sneered, leaning back in his leather chair. “Or I'll have my men riddle you all with lead right here and now.”
Vince and the loyalists lowered their rifles slowly, exchanging grim glances.
I felt my heart pound against my ribs.
We had walked straight into a suicide mission.
Donato stood up, buttoning his suit jacket with arrogant satisfaction.
“You always were too soft, Gabriel. Just like your father. And just like that idiot Daniel Hayes.”
Hearing her husband's name made my blood boil with a fury I had never known.
I stepped out from behind Gabriel’s protective embrace.
Donato raised an eyebrow, looking at me with mild amusement.
“Ah, the little maid. Tell me, did you enjoy cleaning my nephew's floors for nine months?”
“I cleaned them so I could find this,” I said coldly, pulling the frayed red-numbered envelope from my tactical vest.
Donato’s arrogant smile flickered for a fraction of a second.
“What is that?”
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“It’s not just Daniel's ledger,” I said, stepping forward. “It's the audio recording Daniel made on his pocket recorder the night you ordered his execution.”
Donato’s face turned the color of ash.
