Chapter 8 - The Council of Wolves
Two weeks after the incident with Dante Rossi, the grand boardroom of the Moretti estate was summoned into session.
It was a rare gathering of the syndicate’s elder capos and regional directors—twelve powerful, intimidating men who controlled the ports, construction trusts, and financial networks of the Midwest. They sat around the massive mahogany table in silence, murmuring among themselves about the recent purge of Dante Rossi’s faction and the rumors surrounding the east wing.
When the heavy oak doors opened, Lorenzo Moretti walked in.
He didn't wear a smile. He wore the absolute, unassailable aura of an emperor. Behind him walked Marco Ferrara, standing guard by the doorway.
Lorenzo took his seat at the head of the table, placing both hands flat on the polished wood. The word Familia tattooed across his knuckles caught the overhead light.
“Capos,” Lorenzo began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the large room. “You were called here because I am aware of the whispers. Some of you believe that my recent focus on my family—and my decision to bring a mother and her child into the inner sanctum of this estate—represents a distraction from our business.”
An older capo named Salvatore cleared his throat nervously. “Boss... with all due respect, the syndicate has operated on strict protocols for decades. Integrating civilians into the command wing... it’s unprecedented. People are asking questions about succession, about security—”
“Let them ask,” Lorenzo interrupted coldly.
He leaned forward, his gray eyes sweeping over every man at the table with the terrifying predatory focus of a wolf surveying his pack.
“Listen to me very carefully,” Lorenzo said, each word falling like a hammer strike. “The Moretti syndicate is not powerful because we are heartless. We are powerful because we are loyal. We protect our own. And in this house, Elena Vance and her daughter Lily are as much a part of this family as my own blood.”
He placed his right hand flat on the table.
“Any man who questions that rule,” Lorenzo continued, his voice dropping an octave into a lethal whisper, “any man who dares suggest that my home is vulnerable because I have found my heart again... will answer directly to me, exactly as Dante Rossi did.”
Silence fell over the boardroom. Heavy, absolute, and total.
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Salvatore bowed his head slowly, raising his hands in a gesture of absolute capitulation. “Understood, Boss. The matter is closed.”
Lorenzo stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. “Good. Because the only business that matters in this house from now on... is peace.”
