Chapter 19 - The War of Five Families|
At eleven-forty-five PM, Victor Vance sat in the back of his luxurious bulletproof Maybach, parked on a dark gravel turnout half a mile down the road from the Moretti estate.
He held a sleek black detonator switch in his gloved hands, staring at his gold Rolex watch.
“Ten seconds,” Victor murmured to himself with a cruel, cold smile. “Goodbye, Dante Moretti. The five families belong to the syndicate now.”
He pressed his thumb down firmly on the red detonator button.
Nothing happened.
The quiet night sky over the distant slate roof of the Moretti mansion remained completely silent. No explosion, no fiery flash, no sirens.
Victor frowned, pressing the button three more times in rapid succession. “What the hell?”
Suddenly, the rear passenger door of the Maybach clicked open.
A cold steel barrel of a suppressed pistol was pressed firmly against the side of Victor Vance’s neck.
Dante Moretti stepped into the vehicle, pulling his long dark coat around himself as he sat down on the leather seat beside the commissioner.
In Dante’s lap lay the small black thermite box, its receiver wires neatly cut and wrapped in electrical tape.
“Looking for this, Victor?” Dante asked softly.
Victor froze, the color leaving his face so quickly that he looked like a corpse under the interior dome light. His driver in the front seat didn't move—his head was slumped forward against the steering wheel, already unconscious from Mateo’s tranquilizer strike.
“Dante...” Victor stammered, his voice trembling uncontrollably. “I... I can explain—”
“You dropped your lapel pin under my sofa, Victor,” Dante murmured, taking the silver viper crest from his pocket and sliding it into Victor’s front suit pocket. “You shouldn't let cheap metal ruin a four-hundred-million-dollar operation.”
“Dante, please!” Victor gasped, pressing his hands against the leather seats. “The syndicate forced me! They hold my daughter in Geneva!”
Dante looked out the tinted window at the quiet, dark road stretching back toward his estate.
“Your daughter is safe, Victor,” Dante revealed calmly. “My men retrieved her from Geneva two hours ago. She is currently on a flight to secondary protection in Madrid.”
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Victor stared at Dante in utter shock. “You... you saved my daughter?”
“I saved her because she is innocent,” Dante said, his gray eyes locking onto Victor’s panicked gaze with absolute, terrifying finality. “You, however, are not.”
