Chapter 3
“Talk,” Dante said simply, stopping his pacing to lean his palms against the edge of the table.
Marcus swallowed hard, wiping his sweaty palms down the front of his gray work trousers. He cast a fearful glance toward the sealed glass doors leading to the main salon, where Vincent and Victoria were being held under armed surveillance.
“It started six months ago, Mr. Moretti,” Marcus began, his voice raspy and strained. “Maria—the head VIP stewardess who supposedly vanished without taking her final paycheck—wasn't skimming chips. She stayed late to clear out the private counting room after a high-limit private tournament hosted by Judge Rossi.”
Teresa stood quietly near the doorway, listening intently as the pieces locked together.
“What did Maria find?” Dante asked, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
“She found an alternate shipping manifest,” Marcus whispered, leaning forward. “Not for casino supplies, but for the private drydock behind Slip Four. The Rossi family had been using your commercial freight licenses to smuggle contraband and financial audit records off the coast before federal investigators could subpoena them. Maria took photographs of the paperwork with her phone.”
The accountant raised a trembling hand, sliding a thick manila folder across the mahogany table toward Dante. “And here are the bank logs, sir. Millions of dollars diverted from the offshore gaming trusts directly into secret accounts managed by Victoria Rossi under shell corporations registered in the Cayman Islands. They weren't just running the boardwalk, Mr. Moretti. They were setting your entire syndicate up to take the fall for a massive federal racketeering indictment.”
Dante opened the folder, his eyes scanning the columns of numbers and digital signatures with terrifying speed. Every muscle in his jaw clenched so tightly a faint pop echoed in the quiet room.
“Marcus,” Dante said softly, not looking up from the papers. “Is the drydock still operational tonight?”
“Yes, sir,” Marcus replied, nodding rapidly. “There’s a vessel scheduled to clear customs at midnight. A cargo freighter registered under a shell company linked to the Rossi political campaign.”
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Dante closed the folder with a sharp snap that made the accountant jump. He turned his gaze toward Teresa, softening his expression just enough to let her know she was safe.
“Teresa,” Dante said, his voice steady and resolute. “Put on a fresh coat and grab your belongings from the locker. Tonight, we are going down to the drydock to collect what belongs to the Moretti family.”
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