Chapter 9 - The Reckoning in the Dark
"Leo, Leo, Leo," Matteo Moretti sneered, walking down the steps. "You always had a soft spot for broken things. You think you can use a dead inspector’s garbage to take down my empire? I control the judges in this district. I control the port authority. You are entirely out of your depth."
Leo stepped in front of Clara, shielding her from the weapons aimed at them. He didn't look afraid; he looked bored.
"You're right about one thing, Matteo," Leo said, his voice echoing beautifully through the stone vault. "You do control the judges. But you don't control the federal wiretap that’s been running on your phone for the last forty-eight minutes."
Matteo’s smile faltered. "What are you talking about?"
Suddenly, the high-pitched wail of federal sirens erupted from the streets above. The reinforced glass windows of the upper floors shattered as tactical teams from the FBI and the Department of Justice swarmed the building, their red laser sights instantly locking onto the Moretti enforcers.
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"Tommy Rossi might be a coward when it comes to blind dates," Leo smiled coldly, pulling a tiny digital recorder from his breast pocket. "But as an import-export consultant, he is an expert at routing evidence straight to the Eastern District prosecutor. The files Clara just found aren't going to a local court, Matteo. They're going straight to Washington. Your family is finished."
Matteo Moretti dropped his gold revolver, his hands shaking violently as federal agents rushed down the stairs, slamming him onto the dusty archival floor and clicking the heavy steel handcuffs over his wrists.
