Chapter 4 - THE AMBITIONS OF BIANCA MORETTI
Across the city of Rome, far from the quiet lakeside house, luxury echoed through a high-rise penthouse.
Bianca Moretti poured a glass of vintage Barolo.
She wore a crimson silk robe that clung to her frame like spilled blood.
Her father, Don Moretti of the allied Sicilian syndicate, sat across from her at the mahogany table.
“Alessandro hasn't answered his phone all morning,” Bianca’s father growled, tapping his cigar against an ashtray.
“Rumor has it his empire is paralyzed.”
“Let it paralyze,” Bianca smiled, taking a slow sip of wine.
“He will come back to me.”
“He has to.”
“Serena is gone for good.”
“Don’t underestimate Serena Bellini,” her father warned, leaning forward.
“She managed the neutral financial ledgers between our families for five years.”
“Without her signature, half our offshore accounts are frozen.”
Bianca’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second.
“She was just a waitress when Alessandro met her,” Bianca dismissed with a wave of her hand.
“A charity case he kept in a penthouse.”
“She has no power.”
“Power isn’t just guns and blood, Bianca,” her father said darkly.
“Power is knowing where the bodies are buried.”
“And Serena Bellini held the shovel for thirteen years.”
Bianca set her glass down hard enough to crack the stem.
Red wine spilled across the white tablecloth like a fresh wound.
“If she thinks she can ruin my future with Alessandro,” Bianca hissed, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
“She won't live long enough to enjoy her freedom.”
“Be careful,” her father cautioned.
“Alessandro is a cornered animal right now.”
“If he finds out you had anything to do with pushing him toward that hotel room in Venice...”
“He’ll never know,” Bianca interrupted, her voice dripping with venom.
“He’s too blind with guilt to see the trap we laid for him.”
What Bianca didn't know was that security tapes from the Venice hotel weren't just viewed by Alessandro.
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They had already been copied and secured in a federal vault by my attorney.
And the trap she thought she laid was about to snap shut on her own neck.
