Chapter 3 - Shadows on the Camera
The security control annex smelled of ozone, warm computer processors, and sweat.
Marco Viti sat frantically at the master console, his fingers flying across the mechanical keyboard as he tried to bypass the administrative lockouts Mateo had instituted across the system. His tailored Italian suit jacket was flung over a chair, his tie loosened, beads of cold sweat running down his forehead.
"Come on, come on... erase the cache..." Marco muttered under his breath, hammering the backspace key.
The heavy steel door behind him exploded inward with a deafening crash, blowing off its hinges and slamming into the concrete floor.
Marco shrieked, spinning around in his leather chair, reaching for the pistol resting on the desk. Before his fingers could touch the grip, a heavy tactical boot smashed down on his wrist, pinning his hand against the hard surface with bone-crushing force.
Marco screamed in agony.
Rocco stood over him, holding Marco down with one foot, his hand calmly resting on the grip of his own firearm. Behind Rocco stood Mateo and four armed Moretti enforcers, their weapons raised and ready.
"Rocco! Rocco, wait!" Marco gasped, tears of pain welling in his eyes. "It’s a mistake! I was just checking the cameras! Someone hacked the system!"
Rocco didn't answer. He reached down with his left hand, grabbed Marco by his collar, and lifted the two-hundred-pound man out of his chair like he weighed nothing, slamming him against the reinforced glass of the monitor wall.
"Keycard 04," Rocco said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "11:12 PM. The wine cellar bypass."
"I lost my keycard yesterday!" Marco lied desperately, his voice squeaking. "Someone must have stolen it from my desk!"
Rocco reached into Marco’s suit jacket, pulled out his leather wallet, and flipped it open. Tucked securely inside the front slot was Keycard 04.
Rocco held the card inches from Marco’s eyes. "You lie poorly, Marco. You always have."
"Rocco, please! She made me do it!" Marco broke, his pathetic composure completely shattering under the weight of Rocco’s terrifying gaze. "Valentina planned everything! I was just following orders!"
Rocco’s grip tightened on Marco’s neck, cutting off his air supply until Marco’s face began to turn purple. "Explain. Every detail. If you omit a single word, I will hand you to Mateo, and you know how Mateo spends his nights."
Mateo offered a dark, emotionless shadow of a smile from the doorway.
Marco choked out his confession, his arms flailing uselessly against Rocco’s grip. "Three months ago... Valentina realized she couldn't carry a child to full term... she had a secret miscarriage that she hid from you. She was terrified you would set her aside or cut her family out of the Moretti trust!"
Rocco’s eyes narrowed. "Go on."
"She paid Dr. Vance at St. Helena two million dollars to find a private surrogate," Marco wept. "When the baby was born three weeks ago, Dr. Vance told you the child died so Valentina could keep the infant hidden at a private cabin in upstate New York. She was going to wait six months, pretend she adopted an orphan, and present him as your legitimate heir so she could secure her place in the family will!"
Rocco felt a cold disgust wash over him. "Then why was my son in a trash bag behind my kitchen tonight?"
Marco swallowed hard, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Because... because two days ago, Valentina found out you had initiated an internal audit of the family holdings. She panicked. She realized that if you investigated the hospital payouts, you would uncover the two million dollars she paid Dr. Vance. If you found out she lied about the baby being yours, she knew you would ruin her."
"So she decided to destroy the evidence," Rocco whispered, the horrific reality sinking in. "She decided to murder my son."
"She told me to bring the baby here tonight while you were distracted with your lawyers!" Marco sobbed. "I was supposed to drop the bag in the commercial shredder behind the kitchen before the morning garbage truck arrived! But I got scared... I heard footsteps in the hallway... so I left the bag on the bin and ran!"
Rocco stared at Marco for three long seconds. The sheer cowardice, the monstrous cruelty of throwing a living infant into a trash bag to cover up a financial lie was beyond anything Rocco had encountered in thirty years in the underworld.
Rocco lowered Marco slightly, then drove his right fist straight into Marco’s solar plexus. Marco collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, clutching his stomach in agony.
"Mateo," Rocco said, wiping his knuckles with a silk handkerchief.
"Yes, Don Rocco?"
"Take Marco to the subterranean holding cell next to his sister. Strip them of everything they own. Let them sit in the dark together until dawn."
"And the hospital?" Mateo asked. "Dr. Vance is likely preparing to flee if he realizes the plan failed."
May you like
Rocco looked at his watch. It was 3:15 AM.
"Prepare three SUVs," Rocco said, his eyes burning with lethal promise. "We are going to St. Helena. It’s time to close Dr. Vance's practice permanently."
