Chapter 6 - LUCA MORETTILuca did not run.
He waited inside the harbor office.
Forty-two.
Elegant.
Calm.
He looked more like an investment banker than a traitor.
Dante placed the documents on the desk.
“Explain.”
Luca glanced.
Then laughed.
“You finally found it.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“You knew Sofia would die.”
“No.”
“Did you give Harrison her route?”
“Yes.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Dante lunged.
Elena shouted:
“Dante!”
He stopped inches from Luca.
Barely.
“Why?”
Luca’s expression shifted.
“Our family was collapsing.”
“What?”
“Sofia wanted you to turn everything legitimate.”
Dante stared.
“She was right.”
“Maybe.”
“But at the time?”
Luca looked toward the harbor.
“We had enemies.”
“Debt.”
“Unstable alliances.”
“Harrison offered protection.”
“In exchange for Sofia.”
“No.”
“In exchange for information.”
Elena understood.
Luca had sold Sofia’s movements.
Maybe without explicitly ordering murder.
Same moral dodge.
“What did you think Harrison would do?” Elena asked.
Luca looked at her.
“Scare her.”
She laughed bitterly.
“That phrase has killed a lot of people.”
Dante’s eyes went wet.
Rare.
Terrifying.
“My wife died because you wanted stability.”
Luca whispered:
“Yes.”
Dante reached for his gun.
Elena stepped between them.
Luca stared.
Dante’s face went dark.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“If you kill him, Isabella wins.”
“What?”
“She gets exactly what she needs.”
“A Moretti war.”
“Another body.”
“No testimony.”
Dante shook.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Make him talk.”
Silence.
Then Dante lowered the gun.
Luca looked almost disappointed.
Maybe he expected death.
Easier than living with consequences.
They turned him over to federal investigators through Dante’s attorneys.
It cost Dante.
Secrets became evidence.
Old crimes surfaced.
Deals unraveled.
Legitimate companies panicked.
But for once, the Moretti family chose truth over loyalty.
Elena watched it happen.
Then Isabella called.
“You think prison makes you righteous?”
Dante answered:
“No.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because Matteo deserves something better than us.”
Silence.
Isabella laughed.
“You've become sentimental.”
“No.”
Dante looked at Elena.
“I’ve become tired.”
Then Isabella said:
“You still don’t know who ordered the chandelier.”
Dante froze.
“Wasn't you?”
“No.”
Elena took the phone.
“Then who?”
Isabella’s voice softened.
“Ask the child.”
Matteo.
Elena felt cold.
“What?”
“He saw the person near the service ladder.”
Dante’s face changed.
They had never asked Matteo.
Everyone assumed trauma.
Everyone protected him from questions.
Again, protection had become silence.
They sat with Matteo carefully.
No interrogation.
A child therapist present.
Matteo drew.
Then drew the restaurant ceiling.
Then a man.
“Who is that?”
Matteo whispered:
“Uncle Luca.”
Dante closed his eyes.
But then Matteo added another figure.
A woman.
“Who?”
He looked at Elena.
“Her.”
Elena stared.
The figure had dark hair.
Like Elena.
But the dress—
waitress uniform.
Not Elena.
Gina.
May you like
The waitress sent home early.
And suddenly the conspiracy had another person.
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