Chapter 3 - The Three-Millimeter Mistake|
Dante bent down slightly, looking at the sleeping child.
“Sophia did not lie,” Dante said quietly. “And neither did you.”
Elena looked up, stunned. “Mr. Moretti?”
“Pack one bag for yourself and one for the child,” Dante instructed smoothly. “I am moving both of you to the stone cottage behind the north gatehouse tonight. Frank and his men will guard the perimeter. You will not answer the house phones, and you will not speak to Miss Isabella.”
“Are we... are we in danger, sir?” Elena asked, her voice cracking.
“No,” Dante replied, his tone carrying the absolute weight of a boss who ruled five families. “Because as long as you are under my roof, anyone who attempts to harm you will cease to exist before sunrise.”
He reached into his pocket and placed a heavy silver key on the wooden table beside the bed.
Ten minutes later, Dante returned to his study. He unlocked the hidden drawer once more and picked up the bronze seal using a velvet cloth.
He walked over to the desk lamp, unscrewed a small jeweler’s loupe from his pocket, and pressed it to his eye.
The hawk looked identical to the naked eye. The scratch on the right wing—made by his great-grandfather in Palermo in 1906—was present. But under ten-times magnification, the micro-tooling marks became visible.
The original seal was solid yellow bronze, hand-carved over a century ago. This replica had been rendered using 3D laser scan technology and cast in lead, coated in a thin layer of electroplated gold leaf.
“Lead,” Dante whispered to himself.
The seal was not merely a symbol of authority; it was the physical key used to stamp the red wax on the master deeds stored at the First National Vault in Manhattan. Without the physical impression matching the bank’s master die, no property transfer, no financial liquidation, and no maritime clearance could be authorized by the Moretti family.
Isabella hadn’t just stolen a piece of metal. She had stolen the master key to the family’s four-hundred-million-dollar empire.
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He set the fake seal down on his desk and pulled out his secure satellite phone.
“Mateo,” Dante said into the receiver the moment the line connected. “Get to the estate. Use the underground service tunnel. And bring our engraver.”
