Chapter 7 - The Reckoning
The sun rose over an estate stained with cordite and blood, but Vincent did not rest. Within two hours, he gathered thirty of his most loyal captains in the grand hall.
"Silvio Moretti crossed the line that governs civilized men," Vincent announced, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "By sunset, the Moretti syndicate will cease to exist. Burn their warehouses. Seize their holdings. Any man who lays down his weapon will be spared; any man who resists will share Dominic's fate."
The operation was swift, brutal, and total.
By mid-afternoon, the Torino family had swept through every Moretti territory across the city. Silvio Moretti was cornered in his downtown penthouse, stripped of his assets, and put on a cargo freighter bound for South America with strict orders never to set foot in North America again under penalty of immediate execution.
The docks, the shipping lanes, and the city’s entire commercial district fell completely and indisputably under Vincent Torino’s control.
Yet, when Vincent returned to his estate that evening, smelling of rain and gunpowder, he felt no triumph. He walked up the stone steps of the main house, exhausted, carrying the heavy weight of a life built on violence.
He opened the door to the sitting room.
Carmen and Isabella were waiting for him. A fresh pot of tea sat on the low table, alongside a plate of warm pastries.
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"We heard the news on the radio," Carmen said softly, stepping forward. She looked at his bruised knuckles and the tension in his shoulders, then handed him a warm towel. "It is over?"
"It is over," Vincent said, washing the soot from his hands. "No one will ever threaten you or Isabella again. You have my word."
