Chapter 9 - THE CLEANUP OF CHICAGO
Two months later.
The high-rise office of the Moretti organization was empty. The leather chairs had been sold, the filing cabinets emptied, and the large mahogany desk stood bare under the pale Chicago sun.
Damian stood by the window, looking out at the city that had once belonged to him.
Behind him, his new attorney, a young, sharp woman named Elena Vance, was organizing the final liquidation documents.
"Everything is finalized, Mr. Moretti," she said. "The shipping docks have been sold to a legitimate maritime conglomerate out of New York. The proceeds have been placed into a blind trust for the Harborview Children's Hospital and a private educational fund for Eli Hayes."
"And Victor?" Damian asked, not turning around.
"Mr. Salazar’s trial begins next month," she replied. "With the evidence we provided to the federal prosecutors regarding the Panama accounts and the attempted kidnapping in Pennsylvania, his lawyers are advising him to plead guilty. He’s looking at twenty-five years without parole."
"Good," Damian said.
He walked over to the desk, where a single, official document lay in the center of the wood.
It was a birth certificate.
The name on the line marked Father was blank.
Damian picked up a pen, his hand steady and clear as he signed his name: Damian Moretti.
He handed the document to Elena. "File this with the state registrar. I want it official before the end of the week."
"It’s done, Mr. Moretti," she said, taking the paper with a respectful nod.
May you like
Damian walked out of the office, the heavy double doors clicking shut behind him for the very last time. He didn't look back at the skyline, he didn't look at the streets where he had built his empire. He had spent his life running from the truth, building walls of stone and iron to protect himself from the vulnerability of love.
But he had finally learned that the only empire worth holding is the one you can hold in your arms.
