Chapter 26 - An Unexpected Alliance
By dawn, the Moretti estate had transformed into a fortress.
Two dozen armed sentries patrolled the stone walls, the shattered kitchen door had been replaced with a temporary steel plate, and the wreckage of the tactical assault had been cleaned away with silent, ruthless efficiency.
Upstairs in the master study, the morning sun poured through the high arched windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air.
Luca had refused to sleep. He stood at his mahogany desk, his tailored jacket discarded, his shirtsleeves rolled to his forearms, studying a blueprinted schematic of the South Wharf cathedral.
I stood by the window with a cup of black coffee, still wearing the simple dark wool sweater Mrs. Moretti had given me to replace my smoke-stained clothes.
A sharp knock broke the silence. Marco stepped inside, looking exhausted and grim.
"Boss. We have a situation at the outer gate."
Luca didn't look up from the blueprints. "If it's another courier, detonate the vehicle."
"It’s not a courier," Marco said uneasily. "It’s a black town car flying a white flag on the aerial. And the passenger asking for an audience... is Giovanni Bellini."
Luca’s head snapped up. "Bellini? Vanessa’s father?"
"He's alone," Marco added. "Unarmed. He stepped out of the car with his hands up and asked to speak to 'the daughter of Lorenzo Carbone.'"
I set my coffee cup down with a sharp clink against the saucer. "He knows."
Luca grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, his jaw tightening into iron. "Bring him to the conservatory. Marco, put four snipers on the terrace. If he twitches the wrong way, end him."
Ten minutes later, Giovanni Bellini sat in a wrought-iron chair in the sun-drenched conservatory. The once-mighty patriarch of the Bellini dynasty looked like a broken shell of a man. His expensive suit hung loosely on his frail frame, his skin was sallow, and his hands trembled as he rested them on his knees.
When Luca and I walked into the room, Giovanni didn't look at Luca. His eyes locked onto me, his face pale with awe and dread.
"It’s true," Giovanni rasped, his voice trembling. "The moment I heard about the breach at Pier 42 and the serpent crest... I knew Lorenzo’s blood hadn't died out."
"You have two minutes to explain why I shouldn't feed you to the bay, Giovanni," Luca said, standing behind my chair, his presence towering and lethal.
"Because I didn't come to fight you, Moretti," the old man said, coughing hoarsely. "I came to warn you. Vanessa... my daughter... she’s lost her mind."
I leaned forward. "Vanessa?"
"After you ruined our family and cast her out," Giovanni said, bitterness lacing his voice, "she went to the one faction capable of overturning the Moretti rule. She went to the Council’s inner circle—to a man named Don Corrado."
Mrs. Moretti stepped into the conservatory from the side gallery, her voice ringing clear and cold. "Corrado is still alive?"
Giovanni bowed his head. "Alive, and hungry. Vanessa traded our remaining offshore accounts for his protection. And in return, she told Corrado that Luca Moretti had taken Lorenzo Carbone’s surviving daughter as his mistress."
The word struck the room like a slap. Luca’s hand came down on my shoulder, his grip tightening protectively.
"She thinks Elena is just a lever to break me," Luca snarled.
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"No," Giovanni countered, looking directly at me. "Corrado doesn't care about breaking you, Luca. He cares about the Charter. Corrado was the one who ordered the hit on Lorenzo ten years ago. And tonight, he’s convened an emergency tribunal of the High Council at the Grand Metropole. If Elena does not present herself to surrender the Charter, they will declare open extermination on the Moretti house."
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