Chapter 7 - The Reckoning in the Courtyard
Midnight at San Rocco was usually a time of absolute, terrifying silence.
Tonight, however, the massive stone courtyard was illuminated by the harsh white glare of security floodlights. A sleek black cargo van idling near the service gates rumbled against the pavement.
Vivian Mercer—stripped of her diamonds, her designer gown replaced by a simple gray wool coat—was marched out of the side doors by two armed enforcers. Her face was pale, her eyes wild with a mixture of disbelief and blind, spitting fury.
"You can't do this to me!" Vivian screamed as they shoved her toward the back doors of the van. "My family will hunt you down! The commission will tear San Rocco apart brick by brick!"
Dominic Moretti stood on the grand marble steps of the manor, watching her from above like a sovereign looking down at a condemned criminal. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His mere presence was enough to make the night air feel like ice.
"Get in," Marcus ordered coldly, shoving her inside the van.
The heavy metal doors slammed shut with a resounding clack.
Moments later, the vehicle’s tires crunched against the gravel drive as it sped away into the dark November night, carrying away the last remnant of the rot that had poisoned San Rocco for nearly a decade.
Dominic stood on the steps for a long time, watching the tail lights disappear down the winding estate road.
The wind whipped his dark hair across his forehead, carrying the scent of impending winter rain. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the scratched wooden music box, running his thumb over the cracked brass angel.
May you like
The ghost of Elena could finally rest.
He turned around and walked back inside the massive oak doors, locking the syndicate’s dark past outside where it belonged.
