Chapter 7 - The Viper Returns
The peace at Lake Forest was short-lived.
While Keo’s health was steadily improving, Dante Moretti was growing desperate. Having failed to intimidate me at the hospital, he resorted to a dirtier, more personal weapon.
He pulled Jimmy "The Viper" Rossi out of Stateville prison by paying off a corrupt parole board officer.
Rossi was Keo's biological father—a weak, ruthless addict who would do anything for a fix or a quick payout. Dante knew that legally, as the biological father, Rossi could create immense legal chaos regarding Keo's medical guardianship and custody.
It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when my security team alerted me that a suspicious vehicle had stopped at the main gate of the estate.
I walked into the security command center. Marco pointed to the live monitor feed.
Standing at the intercom gate was Jimmy Rossi, dressed in a cheap suit, flanked by two high-priced family law attorneys hired by Dante Moretti.
"He's filing an emergency court petition for custody," Marco said grimly. "He's claiming Linda kidnapped his son and is holding him in an illegal mob stronghold."
I felt a dark, dangerous fury rise within my chest. "Let him in."
"Boss?" Marco looked surprised.
"Open the gate, Marco. Let the rat walk into the trap."
Five minutes later, Rossi and his two attorneys were escorted into my grand living room. Rossi looked around the high ceilings and priceless artwork with greedy eyes, but his swagger vanished the moment he saw me sitting on a high-backed leather chair in the center of the room, flanked by four armed guards.
"Dominic Gallo," Rossi sneered, trying to sound brave in front of his lawyers. "I'm here to claim my son. You have no legal right to keep my boy here."
"Your boy?" I said slowly, standing up and taking a slow step toward him. "Where were you when he was diagnosed six months ago, Jimmy? Where were you when his mother was scrubbing floors at midnight to buy his nutrition supplements?"
Rossi adjusted his collar nervously. "I was... indisposed. But I'm his father. The law recognizes me, not you!"
"The law?" I chuckled—a low, terrifying sound that made his attorneys take a collective step backward. "You come into my house talking about the law, Jimmy? You were paid fifty thousand dollars by Dante Moretti yesterday to file this petition."
Rossi's face went completely pale. "That's... that's a lie!"
"I have the wire transfer records right here," I said, tossing a folder onto the coffee table. "And I also have documents detailing your illegal narcotics operations inside Stateville. If I hand these to the federal prosecutor, you won't be getting custody of anyone. You'll be spending the next thirty years in a federal maximum-security penitentiary."
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Rossi swallowed hard, looking at his attorneys for support, but both lawyers looked down at the floor, realizing they had been brought into a suicide mission.
"Now," I said, stepping right up to Rossi, my shadow completely engulfing him. "You have two options, Jimmy."
