Chapter 13 - THE SEVERING OF THREADS
The eyes of the Commission shifted from Isabella to the matriarch.
Katarina Moretti stood like a statue carved from salt.
Her pearls felt like iron chains around her throat.
For thirty years, she had been the untouchable queen of the Moretti dynasty.
She had hosted governors, buried enemies, and controlled the social hierarchy of Chicago's elite.
Now, she stood exposed before the men who had bowed to her husband.
Don Carmine Falcone turned his heavy, hooded eyes toward her.
"Katarina," Don Carmine said softly.
"Is this true?"
"I was protecting the family," Katarina hissed, her composure cracking into desperate rage.
She pointed a trembling, manicured finger at Isabella.
"This girl is nobody!"
"She is the daughter of a bankrupt mechanic!"
"She was poisoning my son's mind with ideas of going legitimate!"
"She was going to dissolve the syndicate and turn our assets into museums and foundations!"
"She was going to destroy forty years of my husband's work!"
Dante stepped forward until he was standing directly in front of his mother.
He looked down at her.
There was no anger in his eyes.
There was only a deep, bottomless sorrow that cut deeper than any blade.
"My father's work was already destroyed, Mother," Dante said.
"The day you chose ambition over your own blood."
"You knew Carlo was poisoning him."
Katarina gasped, taking a step back.
"No! Dante, I swear on your life—"
"You smelled the thallium in his grappa," Dante interrupted, his voice dropping into a whisper.
"You managed his medications."
"You saw his liver enzymes failing."
"And you said nothing because you knew that if my father died, you and Carlo could push me into a war with Detroit."
"You wanted the war."
"You wanted to be the queen who conquered the Great Lakes."
Tears finally broke through Katarina’s hardened mascara.
She reached out with trembling hands to touch Dante's lapel.
"Dante... I am your mother."
"I raised you."
"I taught you how to survive this world."
Dante reached up and gently, firmly removed her hands from his jacket.
He stepped back.
"Marco," Dante said without turning around.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Escort Mrs. Moretti to the estate in Tuscany."
"Her passports will be surrendered to the Italian consulate."
"Her access to the family trust is permanently revoked."
"She will receive a monthly allowance of four thousand euros."
"And she will never set foot on American soil again."
Katarina looked around the horseshoe table.
Not a single Capo looked at her.
Men who had kissed her hand for twenty years stared down at their water glasses.
Her reign was over.
She had played her cards for total power, and she had lost everything.
Marco stepped beside her, his scarred face completely blank.
"This way, Mrs. Moretti," Marco said politely.
Katarina turned without another word.
She walked down the long center aisle, her head held high, but her footsteps were hollow and uneven.
The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind her.
Don Carmine let out a long, weary sigh.
He picked up the cracked Star of Palermo from the table and held it out toward Dante.
"The throne is yours, Dante," Don Carmine said.
"Clean and uncontested."
"What are your orders for the Midwest Commission?"
Dante did not take the sapphire.
He looked at the twenty-four rulers of the underworld.
"The Moretti syndicate will fulfill all existing transport contracts through December," Dante announced.
"After that, our shipping lines will transition to public commercial freight."
"The gambling dens in Cicero will be shuttered."
"The loansharking operations on the South Side will be dissolved."
A shockwave of murmurs exploded around the table.
"Dante!" Don Carmine warned. "You are walking away from fifty million a year!"
"I am buying my freedom," Dante answered.
"If any family tries to fill the vacuum with narcotics or trafficking..."
Dante leaned his palms on the mahogany table, leaning over the seated elders.
"...I will use every federal connection my father built to put your entire bloodline in federal cages."
He looked at them with eyes of cold iron.
"Do we have an understanding?"
Don Carmine looked into the young Don’s face.
He saw the lethal resolve of Paulo Moretti, but tempered with a clarity the old world had never possessed.
Don Carmine slowly nodded his head.
"We have an understanding, Dante."
Dante turned on his heel.
He walked down the center aisle.
He stopped beside Isabella, who had been watching him in silence.
He offered his arm.
"Let's go home, Isabella," he said softly.
She looked at his extended arm.
May you like
She did not take it.
She walked out the doors beside him, but her hands remained tucked safely inside her own pockets.
