Chapter 3 - THE TICKING CLOCK ON MAPLE STREET"Sir! Incoming transmission from Marko!"
A young security operative burst through the service doors, panting heavily, clutching a secure tablet.
Luca snatched the tablet out of the man's hand. On the encrypted video feed, Marko’s tactical team was currently positioned outside the Maple Street house. But the screen showed red warning banners flashing across the interface.
“BREECH DETECTED. HEAVY EXPLOSIVE CHARGES DETONATED AT FOUNDATION LEVEL. REINFORCED VAULT EXPOSED.”
"They're blowing the foundation!" Emily screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Dad, that’s Mom’s house! They’re destroying everything!"
Luca looked up from the tablet, his gray eyes burning with an apocalyptic wrath. He didn't yell. He didn't curse. He simply reached into his jacket, pulled out a heavy Beretta pistol, and slammed it down onto the mahogany dining table right next to Vanessa’s untouched glass of champagne.
Then, he drew a second, silenced weapon from his shoulder rig and pointed it squarely between Julian Bellini’s eyes.
"You have ten seconds, Julian," Luca whispered, the silence in the room so absolute you could hear the distant hum of the estate’s ventilation system. "Call off your demolition team. Tell them to back away from the vault. Or I will turn your brain into expensive wallpaper before you can finish your sentence."
Julian’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He glanced at the gun barrel, then at the thirty terrified witnesses, and finally back at Luca’s terrifyingly calm expression. He knew Luca Moretti’s reputation wasn't a myth. This was a man who had buried entire syndicates in the concrete foundations of Chicago’s skyscrapers.
"You think killing me stops it?" Julian laughed nervously, though sweat was beginning to bead along his hairline. "My men have automated triggers, Moretti. The moment my biometric ping drops off the network—or if I don't send the clearance code in three minutes—the entire vault incinerates. The ledgers, the offshore numbers, the names of half the men in this room... gone in a cloud of ash."
The city councilman who had shouted earlier stood up so fast his chair flipped backward. "Julian, you insane bastard! You promised us protection!"
"Shut up, Frank! Unless you want your offshore accounts leaked to the FBI tonight!" Julian snapped back.
Emily clutched her father’s arm, her voice shaking. "Dad... what do we do? Mom’s memories are in that house. Everything she left me..."
Luca didn't take his eyes off Julian. But his mind was calculating at lightspeed. He knew Julian’s bluff. The vault wasn't just rigged to blow—it was designed to upload its contents to an external server the moment the biometric seal was broken by unauthorized hands.
"You want the ledger, Julian?" Luca asked smoothly.
"I want what belongs to the Bellini syndicate," Julian replied, regaining his composure. "And I want complete immunity, plus forty percent of Moretti logistics."
"Deal," Luca said.
Vanessa gasped. "Luca—no!"
"Shut up, Vanessa," Luca growled without looking at her. "You traded your family for a ring; now watch how real bosses negotiate." Luca looked back at Julian. "We go to Maple Street together. All of us. You, me, Vanessa, and Emily. We open the vault legally, using Emily’s biometric clearance as the true heir. You get your pages. I get my house. And we sign the transfer papers right there in the living room."
Julian narrowed his eyes, weighing the offer. "Just you and me? No backup?"
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"My daughter stays here with Marko," Luca said firmly. "She doesn't step foot near a war zone. But you and I go. To prove there are no tricks."
Julian grinned, lowering his remote slightly. "A fair trade. Let's go see what Eleanor left behind."
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