Chapter 8 - The Fall of the Old King
The slaughter at the 21st Street meatpacking plant was swift, brutal, and mathematically precise.
At 1:00 AM, six armored Moretti tactical vehicles smashed through the chain-link perimeter fences, blinding the building with high-intensity searchlights. Before Rossi’s Detroit mercenaries could even reach their weapons, thirty elite Moretti guards stormed the floor with tactical breaches and suppression fire.
Within fifteen minutes, the entire mercenary force was neutralized.
In the elevated office overlooking the cold storage floor, Valerio Rossi sat trapped behind his heavy oak desk, holding a shaking revolver aimed at the reinforced double doors.
The iron doors were blown off their hinges in a shower of sparks and metal dust.
Luca Moretti stepped through the smoke. He wore full tactical body armor over his suit, carrying a custom combat firearm low at his side. His face was cold, devoid of any human emotion, looking like the grim reaper himself.
"Luca!" Rossi shrieked, his voice echoing off the concrete walls as he pressed his back against the brick behind him. "Wait! We can talk! The Commission... the Commission will never allow you to execute a family boss without a vote!"
Luca slowly walked across the room, stopping directly in front of the desk. He didn't raise his weapon. He simply looked down at the old man with absolute contempt.
"The Commission governs business, Valerio," Luca said softly, his voice cutting through the ringing silence. "You didn't engage in business. You threatened a mother and her children."
"She was just a waitress!" Rossi screamed, sweat pouring down his forehead. "She was a nobody!"
Luca reached out, his broad, gloved hand snatching the revolver straight out of Rossi’s shaking grip, crushing the cylinder with raw, terrifying physical power until the mechanism jammed uselessly.
"She is my wife," Luca stated flatly.
Rossi’s eyes went wide with sheer, paralyzing disbelief. "W-What?"
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"She is the future Mistress of the Moretti Syndicate," Luca corrected himself, his dark eyes fixing on Rossi with absolute finality. "And you are a relic of a dead past."
A single muffled shot echoed through the meatpacking plant.
