Chapter 6 - The Trap is Sprung
While Sofia recovered under the watchful eyes of Vincent and the medical team, the storm downstairs was far from over.
In the subterranean holding quarters of the estate, Charles Bellamy and Isabella Romano sat in separate cells. They had been kept in total isolation for forty-eight hours, denied communication with the outside world.
On Saturday evening, Dominic entered Charles Bellamy’s cell, tossing a thick folder onto the cold steel table.
Charles looked up, his hair disheveled, his expensive suit ruined. “Dominic! Please! You have to listen to me! I was forced into this! Marco Vane—the head of the Manhattan Syndicate—he threatened my family! He wanted the Moretti shipping corridors! I had no choice!”
Dominic pulled up a chair, sitting down across from the terrified lawyer. “Marco Vane didn't threaten you, Charles. We checked your offshore accounts in Zurich. Vane paid you twelve million dollars to orchestrate the takeover from the inside. You used Isabella as the honeytrap to keep Vincent compliant while you drained the continuity trust.”
Charles went pale, his sweat-slicked forehead reflecting the single overhead bulb. “Where... where is Vincent?”
“He’s upstairs with his wife,” Dominic said coldly. “And he gave me an order.”
“What order?” Charles gasped, trembling.
“He told me to give you a choice,” Dominic lied smoothly, leaning forward. “Option one: we hand you and Isabella over to federal authorities along with the forensic evidence from Crestview Sanatorium. You spend forty years in a maximum-security prison for kidnapping, conspiracy, and human trafficking.”
Charles swallowed hard. “And... option two?”
“Option two,” Dominic lowered his voice, “is you help us catch Marco Vane tonight. Vane doesn't know Sofia has been rescued yet. He thinks you’re finalizing the trust transfer at the docks tonight at midnight. You make the call. You tell Vane to come to Pier 42 to receive the signed deeds.”
Charles stared at Dominic, his mind racing frantically. “If I help you take down Vane... Vincent will let me walk?”
Dominic smiled—a predatory, terrifying curve of his lips. “Vincent promises that if you deliver Vane, you won't die in the Hudson River.”
“I’ll do it!” Charles blurted out instantly, scrambling for the phone Dominic set on the table. “I’ll make the call right now!”
Ten minutes later, Charles had placed the call to Marco Vane, confirming that the "Moretti trust assets were ready for final transfer" at the private docks in Jersey City.
What Charles Bellamy didn't realize was that Vincent Moretti had no intention of letting him walk free.
Upstairs in the private study, Vincent stood before his full war council. Ten senior captains from the Moretti shipping network sat around the long mahogany table, their expressions grim and resolute.
“Marco Vane thinks he’s buying our family’s legacy for twelve million dollars,” Vincent announced, his voice carrying the weight of an iron hammer. “He thinks he’s stepping into a house broken by grief. Tonight, we show the entire East Coast what happens when someone touches a Moretti.”
Sofia walked into the study, wearing an elegant dark wool coat over a simple black dress. She looked pale, but her posture was straight, her head held high.
Vincent immediately moved to her side, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. “Sofia, you don't need to be there tonight. You should rest.”
“I spent three years resting in a concrete room, Vince,” Sofia replied, looking at the assembled mob captains with eyes that burned like cold steel. “Marco Vane ordered my kidnapping. He tried to destroy my husband. I am going to stand beside you when he falls.”
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The ten captains stood up simultaneously, bowing their heads in profound respect to the woman they had believed dead for three long years.
“As you wish, Boss,” Dominic said, pulling two tactical holsters from the weapon rack. “Let’s go clean house.”
