Chapter 4 - Into the Lion’s Den
The assault on the Moretti estate lasted forty-two minutes.
Through the security monitors, Maya watched a brutal, silent ballet of shadows, gunfire, and shattered glass. In the end, Victor and the remaining Moretti loyalists secured the house. Three bodies of rival mercenaries were dragged from the foyer, and the blood was washed from the marble before noon.
Donatella Moretti did not shed a single tear.
That evening, sitting at the head of a massive dining table that could seat twenty, Donatella presided over dinner as if nothing had happened. She wore a black silk gown, her posture immaculate.
Maya sat near the far end, picking at a plate of roasted duck she had no appetite to eat.
“You survived your first skirmish,” Donatella noted, cutting a piece of meat with silver silverware that clinked softly against china. “Most people from your world would be vomiting in a corner by now.”
“I’m in shock,” Maya replied flatly, staring at her wine glass. “Or maybe I’m just numb.”
“Numbness is a useful survival tool,” Donatella said. “Tell me, Maya. Before you were working at a greasy diner for ten dollars an hour, what did you do? People with your intelligence and sharp tongue do not end up scrubbing floors by accident.”
Maya froze. Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. She had spent three years burying her past—a past destroyed by corporate corruption, a fraudulent embezzlement scandal she took the fall for, and a fiancé who sold her out to protect his own skin.
“It doesn’t matter,” Maya said coldly. “My past was wiped out.”
“Nothing is ever wiped out in this city,” Donatella said, taking a sip of red wine. “My intelligence network ran a full background check on you the moment Victor brought you here. Maya Vance. Former senior financial analyst for Vanguard Securities. You discovered a massive money-laundering scheme run by your executive board. You tried to whistleblow, and they framed you. You lost your license, your savings, and your reputation, all while the men who actually stole the millions walked free.”
Maya clenched her fists under the table, her fingernails digging into her palms. The old fury—a hot, bitter poison she thought she had purged—flared back to life.
“How do you know that?” she whispered.
“Because Vanguard Securities was a front for Marcus Vane—the very man who just sent assassins to my home,” Donatella said smoothly.
The room seemed to spin. Maya stared at the matriarch, the coincidence too monstrous to comprehend.
“Vane?” Maya breathed.
“Marcus Vane is the rival capo trying to usurp my territory,” Donatella explained, leaning forward. “He uses corporate fronts to launder drug money, and he uses ruthless tactics to eliminate anyone who gets in his way. He ruined your life five years ago, Maya. And now, he has declared war on mine.”
Donatella set her wine glass down with a sharp clink.
“Vane thinks he is untouchable because he hides behind boardrooms, shell corporations, and high-priced lawyers. But my world operates on a different kind of justice.”
Donatella pushed a thick manila folder across the mahogany table toward Maya.
Maya hesitated, then reached out and opened it. Inside were bank statements, offshore account numbers, wire transfers, and encrypted communications linking Marcus Vane directly to the embezzlement scheme that framed her—and to the recent attacks on the Moretti family.
“What is this?” Maya asked, her voice trembling.
“Proof,” Donatella said. “Vane is hosting a high-society charity gala this Saturday at the Grand Meridian Hotel. All the city’s elite, politicians, and syndicate leaders will be there. He thinks he is celebrating his impending victory over me.”
May you like
Donatella’s dark eyes locked onto Maya’s.
“I am offering you a choice, Maya. You can remain here as a protected guest, live in luxury, and watch the world burn from a distance. Or... you can put on an evening gown, walk into that gala on my arm, and help me destroy Marcus Vane once and for all.”
