Chapter 5 - The Attorney’s Secret
Down in the lower security suite of San Rocco, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the quiet warmth of the third-floor study.
The room was constructed from reinforced concrete and steel, designed to hold high-value prisoners or treacherous capos who needed time to reconsider their loyalty.
Vivian Mercer paced frantically across the polished concrete floor, her designer evening gown dragging in the dust, her hair falling out of its elaborate updo in wild, tangled strands. Her makeup was smeared across her cheeks from furious, frantic tears.
The heavy steel door swung open with a loud, echoing clack.
Marcus stepped inside, followed closely by Arthur Vance, Dominic’s chief legal counsel. Arthur was a tall, immaculate man in a charcoal bespoke suit, carrying a heavy leather briefcase. He looked nervous, his glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his sweaty nose.
"Arthur! Thank God!" Vivian rushed toward the glass partition separating the room, slamming her manicured hands against the Plexiglas. "Get me out of this hellhole! Dominic has lost his mind! He’s listening to the ramblings of a lunatic kitchen maid and her brat!"
Arthur adjusted his glasses, looking uncomfortable. He didn't step closer to the partition.
"Miss Mercer," Arthur said, his voice clipped and formal. "Mr. Moretti has reviewed the contents of the audio recording recovered from Elena’s music box. Furthermore, my office has just completed an audit of the prenuptial asset transfers you had me draft over the past six months."
Vivian’s frantic expression froze. Her hands slowly slid down the glass. "What... what are you talking about?"
"You didn't just target Dominic’s personal estate," Arthur continued, opening his leather briefcase and pulling out a thick stack of financial documents. "You systematically funneled millions of dollars in syndicate holdings through offshore shell companies controlled by Viktor Sterling—the primary enforcer for the Rossi syndicate."
"That’s a lie!" Vivian shrieked, though her voice lacked its earlier conviction. "Dominic can't prove any of that without a court order, and I have rights—"
"You have no rights in San Rocco, Vivian," a deep, cold voice echoed from the doorway.
Vivian spun around.
Dominic Moretti stepped into the holding suite. The overhead fluorescent lights caught the hard, unforgiving lines of his face. He walked slowly toward the glass partition, his hands casually slipped into his trouser pockets.
"Dominic..." Vivian’s voice dropped to a pathetic, wheedling whisper. She pressed her face against the glass, trying to summon whatever fragile charm had once snared him. "Please. We were going to build an empire together. Elena is dead—she’s been dead for nine years! Why are you letting a ghost destroy what we built?"
"Elena wasn't just my wife, Vivian," Dominic said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "She was the only person who saw past the monster everyone else expected me to be. And you murdered her in cold blood because you couldn't stand being second best."
"She was weak!" Vivian snapped, dropping the act entirely, her face twisting into a venomous snarl of pure hatred. "She didn't have the stomach for what the Moretti family really is! She cried over blood, she cried over territory, she wanted to give our money away to charities! I did what needed to be done to keep this family strong!"
Dominic stared at her for a long, silent moment.
"You didn't do it for the family, Vivian," Dominic said quietly. "You did it for yourself."
He turned to Marcus and Arthur.
"Pack her belongings into a single suitcase," Dominic commanded without looking back. "Drive her to the northern docks by sector four. Put her on a cargo freighter bound for South America under an assumed name. Make sure she has no phone, no cash, and no connections. If she ever steps foot in New York again, feed her to the fishes."
May you like
"No! Dominic, you can't! You'll be making an enemy of the Rossi syndicate! Viktor won't let this go!" Vivian screamed, pounding her fists against the glass as Marcus grabbed her by the arms and dragged her backward into the shadows.
Dominic didn't even turn around. He walked out of the holding suite, leaving the echoes of her terror behind in the concrete corridors.
