Chapter 5 - The Velvet Cage
The dining room descended into utter chaos.
Capos were shouting, chairs were pushed back, and Isabella looked as though she were about to faint into her soup bowl.
"Are you insane, Lorenzo?!" Isabella screamed, her voice reaching a high-pitched screech. "She's an outsider! A peasant! A cop! You are marrying a police officer who forged her way into our home?!"
"I am marrying the woman who saved your son while you sat in your parlor drinking tea, Mother," Lorenzo said coldly, his hand remaining firmly anchored around Lydia’s waist, holding her close against his side.
Mateo clicked a button on his armrest, using his specialized chin-joystick to maneuver his wheelchair forward. He looked at Uncle Silvio, then looked at Lorenzo, blinking rapidly three times—their code for Danger.
Lorenzo noticed.
Uncle Silvio stood up slowly, his hands trembling as he smoothed down his silk jacket. "Lorenzo... this is an insult to the tradition. A Donna must come from the five families! You cannot simply elevate a... a stray!"
"Silvio," Lydia spoke for the first time.
Her voice was soft, rich, and carried an icy authority that instantly cut through the shouting in the room.
She stepped away from Lorenzo, taking three slow, deliberate steps toward Uncle Silvio. Her emerald green gown rustled softly against the carpet.
"On October 14th of last year," Lydia said, her hazel eyes locking onto Silvio like a sniper scope, "a wire transfer of two point four million dollars was executed from a shell company in Zurich to an account owned by your son in Miami."
Silvio froze. His wet eyes went wide with sudden, suffocating panic.
"Three days later," Lydia continued, stepping closer, "a shipping manifesto for the Naples harbor was altered, removing the police escort details for Mateo Moretti's motorcade."
The capos at the table went completely quiet. Every eye turned slowly toward Silvio.
"How... how do you know that?" Silvio stammered, his forehead breaking out into a slick sheen of sweat. "That's... that's classified financial data! She's making it up! She's trying to divide us!"
Lydia pulled a small white flash drive from the small velvet clutch bag resting against her hip and tossed it onto the table in front of Lorenzo.
"The evidence is all there, Lorenzo," Lydia said quietly. "Your uncle didn't just leak Mateo's location last week. He's the one who paid the Camorra to ambush Mateo in Naples two years ago so he could take control of the family's offshore accounts."
Silvio reached inside his jacket—
SNAP.
Before Silvio’s hand could even touch his holster, Lorenzo pulled his Kimber .45 and fired a single round straight through the center of Silvio’s right palm.
Silvio screamed in agony, falling backward over his chair, clutching his shattered, bloody hand as his gun clattered across the mahogany floorboards.
"Guards!" Lorenzo roared.
Four heavy-built Moretti enforcers rushed into the room, their submachine guns raised.
"Take my uncle to the basement," Lorenzo commanded, his voice devoid of any human warmth. "Keep him alive until he tells us every name written on his payroll. Then feed him to the furnace."
Silvio was dragged screaming out of the room, leaving a long, smear of red blood across the pristine white carpet.
Isabella collapsed back into her chair, her face grey, staring at Lydia as if she were looking at a demon summoned from the depths of hell.
Lorenzo holstered his weapon, walked back to Lydia, and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her plush back against his broad chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder, looking at the remaining capos sitting at the table.
"Does anyone else have an objection to my choice of bride?" Lorenzo asked softly.
May you like
Not a single capo dared to breathe. One by one, the hardened crime bosses stood up, bowed their heads respectfully toward Lydia, and whispered in unison:
"Welcome to the family, Donna Lydia."
