Chapter 8 - The Mole In The Moretti Circle
Ten minutes later, tires rumbled on the concrete ramp outside the garage.
A sleek silver Mercedes pulled into the private bay.
Julian Moretti stepped out of the vehicle.
He was younger than Adrian by three years.
Handsomer in a polished, reckless way.
He wore an Italian cashmere coat and an expensive leather watch.
He looked like a man who spent his life in Manhattan penthouses, not back-alley
firefights.
Two armed guards followed him into the safe house living area.
"Adrian!" Julian called out, holding his arms wide with theatrical relief.
"My God, brother! When I heard the docks went up, I thought Sal had caught you!"
Julian walked forward, attempting to embrace Adrian.
Adrian didn't move.
He stood perfectly still in the center of the room.
His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his slacks.
Julian stopped two paces away, his smile faltering.
"Adrian? What's wrong?"
Julian glanced sideways and noticed me standing near the kitchen counter.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Who is the girl?" Julian asked. "Why is a civilian here?"
"Her name is Emily Rivers," Adrian said calmly.
Julian's breath hitched.
Just for a microsecond.
A tiny twitch at the corner of his left eye.
"Rivers?" Julian repeated, forcing a light chuckle. "As in... Danny Rivers?"
"You remember Danny, don't you, Julian?" Adrian asked.
"Of course I remember him," Julian shrugged, undoing the top button of his coat.
"The auditor who got himself killed in Philly three years ago. Sad story."
"It wasn't a sad story," I spoke up, taking two steps forward.
Julian looked at me, a condescending smirk playing on his lips.
"It was an execution," I said. "And you signed the contract."
Julian’s smirk vanished.
He turned toward Adrian, his voice sharpening.
"Adrian, what is she talking about? Are you taking the word of a hysterical
waitress over your own flesh and blood?"
Adrian slowly pulled his right hand from his pocket.
He tossed the printed scan of the bill of lading onto the coffee table between
them.
The paper fluttered face up.
Julian’s signature sat directly under the light.
Julian stared at the ink.
The color drained from his face like water down an open drain.
His two bodyguards shifted their weight, reaching under their jackets.
CLACK.
Leo stepped out from the hallway behind them, leveling a twelve-gauge shotgun at
the back of their heads.
"Hands on your heads, gentlemen," Leo growled.
The guards froze.
They slowly raised their palms into the air.
Julian took one step backward toward the exit.
"Adrian, listen to me," Julian stammered, holding his hands out in surrender.
"You don't understand the pressure the family was under!"
"Sal was squeezing the southern routes!"
"The Feds were crawling through every dock!"
"I did what I had to do to save our business!"
"You killed an honest man," Adrian said, his voice dropping into a deadly,
subterranean register.
"You gave his sister's address to a monster."
"You sent a hit squad to murder me tonight."
"No! I didn't want you dead!" Julian pleaded, sweat breaking across his
forehead.
"Sal promised me he would only take the ledger! He swore he wouldn't touch you!"
"You believed Sal Castiglione?" Adrian asked, shaking his head slowly.
"You're a fool, Julian."
"And you're a traitor."
Julian’s eyes darted toward the door.
He realized there was no escape.
His expression twisted from pathetic terror into bitter, venomous hatred.
"You were going to throw everything away for that auditor!" Julian screamed.
"Ten million dollars of our family money to give him and his sister a clean
slate?!"
"They were nobodies, Adrian! Scum from the docks!"
"I built this empire while you played at being an honorable mobster!"
Adrian walked forward until he was inches from his brother's chest.
"Our father built this empire," Adrian whispered.
"You turned it into a slaughterhouse."
Adrian turned his head toward me.
"Emily," he said.
I looked at him.
"What do you want done with him?" Adrian asked.
Julian gasped, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.
"Adrian, no! You can't let a girl decide—"
"Quiet," Adrian commanded.
I walked over to the coffee table.
I picked up the paper with Julian's signature.
I looked at the man who had ordered my brother's murder.
The man who had burned my home to the ground tonight.
I wanted him dead.
Every fiber of my wounded soul screamed for his blood.
Then I remembered Danny’s voice.
“If you become like them, Em... they win twice.”
I looked Julian straight in the eyes.
"Killing you is too easy," I said coldly.
I handed the paper back to Adrian.
"Give the ledger to the Federal prosecutor in Manhattan," I said.
"Strip him of every dollar."
"Take his name."
"Let him rot in a concrete box in Florence, Colorado for the rest of his life."
Julian let out a ragged breath of relief.
He thought he had won.
Adrian looked down at the paper.
Then he looked at Leo.
"Break both his knees," Adrian said evenly.
"Then deliver him to the Federal building in Foley Square with the micro-film
pinned to his chest."
Julian screamed as Leo dragged him toward the garage floor.
CRACK.
CRACK.
Julian’s agony echoed through the concrete facility.
May you like
I didn't look away.
Justice had arrived.
