Chapter 3 - THE RAT IN THE GALLERY
By 8:30 P.M., eighteen household staff members and security guards were assembled in the grand second-floor gallery overlooking the empty ballroom.
Elena, the head housekeeper, held three-year-old Mia tightly against her chest, her hands trembling as four armed Moretti enforcers lined the walls.
Luca wheeled himself to the center of the floor below, looking up at the gathered crowd. Beside him stood Marco, his thirty-year-old adopted son and chief of security, holding a heavy tactical tablet.
"For three years," Luca spoke, his voice booming through the acoustics of the estate, "I have governed this syndicate from this chair. Many of you thought I was broken. Many of you thought the Moretti family was dying."
The room was deathly quiet.
"Tonight, forty guests were turned away by a ghost message generated from our central fiber-optic hub," Marco announced, tapping the tablet screen. "The message warned our allies that a hit squad was waiting inside this mansion to slaughter everyone at the table."
Gasps echoed across the gallery. Elena covered Mia’s ears as the staff murmured in panic.
"The IP address was traced to an encrypted laptop on the third floor," Marco continued, his stern face darkening. "A laptop registered to the administrative office of Enzo Rossi."
Every head turned to Enzo, who stood at the edge of the gallery railing, his hands shaking inside his pockets.
"This is a frame job!" Enzo yelled, his voice echoing frantically. "Luca, you've known me since you were twenty years old! I stood beside your father! Why would I sabotage your birthday?!"
Luca didn't raise his voice. "Because two days ago, Enzo, my medical team in Switzerland sent me a confidential report. A revolutionary spinal bypass procedure was approved for my condition. In three months... I will walk again."
Enzo gasped, taking a involuntary step backward.
"You knew if I walked again, your dream of taking over the Moretti empire would die," Luca said coldly. "You called the families and told them I was weak. And when you realized my Swiss doctors were going to cure me, you panicked."
Marco pulled a dark leather folder from his jacket and held it up.
"We seized Enzo’s private offshore accounts twenty minutes ago," Marco declared. "Three million dollars was wired yesterday from do Vega—the head of the rival Milan cartel who ordered the sniper attack on Don Luca three years ago."
The guards immediately pulled their handguns, aiming them directly at Enzo’s chest.
Enzo fell to his knees on the marble floor, his polished composure shattering completely. "Luca! Please! Aldo promised me they wouldn't hurt you! They just wanted you to step down peacefully! They said a crippled Don was bad for business!"
"You sold my life to the man who put me in this chair," Luca said, his expression empty of emotion. "Remove him."
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As the guards dragged Enzo away screaming into the lower basement, little Mia looked down from the balcony, holding her mother’s dress.
Luca looked up at Elena and Mia, his voice softening instantly. "Elena... serve the birthday cake to the staff. Tonight, we celebrate with real family."
