Chapter 4 - The Ghost on the Water
The storm over Lake Como had reached its absolute zenith by midnight. Heavy, jagged streaks of lightning split the black sky, illuminating the churning dark waters beneath the shear rock cliffs of the Moretti estate.
A hundred feet below the main villa, built directly into the base of the limestone cliff, was the private boathouse. The massive iron doors that usually kept the lake at bay were half-submerged, shuddering against the violent swell of the waves.
Inside the boathouse, a seventy-foot slick black yacht rocked rhythmically against its heavy rubber bumpers. Its diesel engines purred with a low, vibrating hum, ready to slip out into the darkness of the open lake the moment the digital gate codes were cleared.
On the upper deck of the yacht, standing beneath the overhang of the fiberglass roof, stood a man in a beige trench coat. He was mid-fifties, with thin gray hair slicked back against his scalp, a silver-trimmed cane resting in his left hand, and a pair of gold-rimmed wire spectacles sitting on his narrow nose.
Lorenzo Vane.
The ghost who had been dead for four years was looking at his encrypted satellite phone, his expression growing darker with every passing second.
"Where is she?" Vane muttered, his voice raspy from years of heavy cigar smoke. He turned to the two armed mercenaries standing by the gangway. "Vivian should have been down that staircase ten minutes ago. The perimeter alarms at the main house were cut."
"The main house went on full lock-down, Don Vane," the lead mercenary replied, checking the digital tactical display on his wrist. "Alessandro’s main force didn't pursue the fence breach. They pulled back into the central keep."
Vane’s eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. "He found it. The girl brought the bear into the house, and Alessandro found the chip."
He turned toward the helm. "Cast off the lines. We leave now. We take the alpine route through Switzerland before his border watchers get the alert."
"Leaving so soon, Lorenzo?"
The voice did not come from the gangway.
It came from the dark rafters twenty feet above the yacht's deck.
Before Vane could even raise his cane, a heavy glass skylight shattered overhead in a rain of safety glass.
Three black-clad figures dropped from the steel girders above, landing on the teak deck with thunderous impact.
At the center of the drop was Alessandro Moretti.
He didn't speak. He didn't offer a warning. The moment his boots hit the deck, his weapon was up.
Two rapid shots snapped through the air. The two mercenaries on the gangway collapsed onto the deck before their hands could even clear their holsters.
Lorenzo Vane stumbled back, his silver cane clattering against the wood, his hands flying into the air as Alessandro stepped forward, his face illuminated by the harsh blue strobe lights of the yacht’s emergency console.
"Four years," Alessandro said, his voice terrifyingly steady despite the violent wind blowing in from the open lake. "Four years I spent searching the morgues of Milan for enough bone fragments to bury my brother."
"Alessandro..." Vane stammered, his raspy voice trembling as he backed toward the stern railing, his eyes darting frantically toward the dark water behind him. "Listen to me... Gabriel's death... it wasn't personal! It was business! The Old Council wanted him gone because he was restructuring the territory shares! I was just the conduit!"
"You were his godfather," Alessandro said, taking another step forward. The barrel of his Beretta was centered precisely on Vane’s forehead. "He sat at your table every Sunday. He trusted you."
"I saved your empire from collapsing!" Vane shrieked, pressing his back against the cold steel railing. "Without the offshore accounts I set up with Romano, the families would have torn the Moretti name to pieces after your father died! I built the foundation you stand on!"
"You built a foundation on blood and cowardice," Alessandro said coldly. "And then you used an innocent woman and her three-year-old child to carry your dirty secrets across my threshold."
Vane swallowed hard, his gold spectacles sliding down his wet nose. "You won't kill me. You need the master keys to the Cayman accounts. Half of your liquidity is tied up in the encryption loops only I possess!"
Alessandro smiled—a cold, terrifying flash of white teeth in the dark.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the micro-chip he had extracted from Emma’s cream-colored teddy bear, and held it up between two fingers.
"Mrs. Bennett’s daughter kept her toy very clean, Lorenzo," Alessandro said softly. "The drive was completely intact. I mirrored your master keys to my private server ten minutes ago."
Vane’s face went completely gray.
"You have nothing left to trade," Alessandro whispered.
"Wait—!" Vane screamed.
Alessandro pulled the trigger.
The shot was quiet, swallowed entirely by the roar of the thunder crashing outside the boathouse.
Lorenzo Vane’s eyes rolled back, his body going limp as he tipped over the low stern railing, plunging into the dark, freezing depths of Lake Como, swallowed instantly by the black water below.
Alessandro stood on the rocking deck for a long moment, watching the ripples disappear into the storm. Then, he slowly lowered his weapon, engaged the safety, and slipped it back into his shoulder holster.
May you like
He turned to Marco, who was rappelling down from the rafters with three more men.
"Burn the boat," Alessandro ordered flatly, turning his back on the lake and walking toward the stairs. "And prepare my car. We are going back to my family."
