Chapter 5 - The Swiss Account
The peace in the study was broken at 11:15 PM by a sudden, sharp knock at the door.
Dominic instantly pulled back, his hand instinctively dropping to the concealed holster beneath his arm. The vulnerability vanished from his posture, replaced once again by the cold steel of the Don.
"Enter," Dominic commanded.
Paulie Vitti stepped into the room, holding a encrypted satellite phone. His face was pale, his brow dripping with cold sweat.
"Boss," Paulie said, his voice tight. "We have a problem."
Dominic adjusted his shirt collar. "What is it?"
"The Swiss firm," Paulie breathed, looking nervously at me. "Omega Management in Zurich. The automated system just sent a ping to our network."
My heart stopped. "What ping?"
Paulie swallowed hard. "When you ran Elena’s name through the family intelligence database two hours ago, Dominic... it triggered a digital flag. The Swiss system detected an query on a target listed in the 'Terminated' ledger."
Dominic stepped forward, his eyes narrowing into lethal slits. "What does that mean, Paulie?"
"It means," Paulie whispered, "the dead hand contract has just reactivated. The system knows Elena Rossi is alive."
A suffocating terror gripped my throat. "No..."
"How long do we have?" Dominic demanded, his voice deadly calm.
"The contract gives the Swiss firm twelve hours to confirm the target's location before they dispatch an international strike team," Paulie replied. "They have two satellite offices in New Jersey. By midnight tomorrow, they will have mercenaries in Long Island."
"Dominic," I grabbed his arm, my nails digging through his sleeve into his muscle. "We have to run. Take Lily and leave the country. We can go to South America, we can—"
"No," Dominic said.
I stared at him, horrified. "Dominic! It's an international hit team! They don't care about the Moretti family! They care about five million dollars!"
Dominic turned to me, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying intelligence. He reached up, cupping my cheek with one hand, his thumb stroking my skin with absolute calm.
"For five years, Elena," Dominic whispered, "I fought defensive wars. I protected territories. I negotiated with bastards. I did it because I was an empty shell who didn't care whether I lived or died."
He pulled me closer, pressing his forehead against mine.
"Now I have my wife back," he murmured, his voice laced with pure, uncompromising steel. "I have my daughter back. I am not running anymore."
"Dominic, what are you going to do?" I breathed.
Dominic pulled back and looked at Paulie. "Assemble the Capos. All five families. Tell them there is an emergency sit-down at the Westbury estate at two in the morning."
Paulie gasped. "Boss... the five families? If they find out about the contract—"
"They are going to help me destroy it," Dominic said coldly. "And Paulie?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Call our contacts in Zurich. Tell them Don Dominic Moretti wants to buy Omega Management. If they refuse to sell..." Dominic’s eyes flickered with a terrifying, demonic fire. "...tell them I will buy their blood."
Paulie nodded grimly, turning on his heel and exiting the room.
Dominic turned back to me. He took both of my hands in his, bringing them to his lips and kissing my knuckles gently.
"You spent five years protecting us, Elena," Dominic said softly. "Now it's my turn. Go upstairs to our daughter. Stay in the room. No matter what you hear downstairs tonight, do not come out until I come get you."
"Dominic," I begged, tears filling my eyes. "Promise me you won't die. Promise me."
Dominic looked at me, a slow, breathtaking smile breaking across his handsome face—the same smile he had worn on that Brooklyn terrace five years ago.
"I already died five years ago, my sweet Elena," he whispered, kissing my lips with a deep, passionate intensity that stole the breath from my lungs. "Tonight, I come back to life."
I ran upstairs to the master bedroom. Lily was still sleeping soundly, her tiny hand curled into a fist against the silk pillow. I climbed onto the bed, pulling her small body close against mine, wrapping my arms around her like a shield.
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Downstairs, the quiet of the night was slowly replaced by the heavy thud of arriving armored cars, the clicking of gun safety catches, and the low, rumbling voices of the most powerful men in the American underworld assembling in the grand dining room.
The battle for our family had finally begun.
