Chapter 6 - The Gathering Storm
Within two hours, my private security detail arrived at the 9th Street apartment.
Four black SUVs lined the narrow curb below the laundromat. My chief of security, Frankie "The Hammer" Lucchesi—a man who had been at my side for twenty years—stepped into the bedroom, his eyes wide with relief when he saw me alive.
“Boss,” Frankie said, bowing his head slightly. “We’ve been sweeping the waterfront since three in the morning. When Sal’s crew didn't report in, we assumed the worst.”
“Sal and Paulie are out of commission,” I said, standing up from the chair. “The Valenti family moved sooner than we expected. They want the port contracts, and they were willing to cross the line to get them.”
Frankie looked over at Elena and Lily. “Who are they, boss?”
“This is my family, Frankie,” I said, my voice leaving no room for debate. “Get a private ambulance here immediately. I want Elena transferred to the private wing at Mount Sinai under top-tier pulmonary care. I want four armed guards outside her door twenty-four hours a day.”
Frankie nodded without hesitation. “Understood, boss. What about the girl?”
I looked down at Lily, who was holding her pink backpack tightly against her chest.
“She comes with me to the estate in Bay Ridge,” I said. “And Frankie—call the board. Tell them the emergency meeting is moved to tomorrow morning at eight. I have a debt to settle with Don Valenti.”
By mid-afternoon, Elena was safely admitted to the hospital under the care of the top specialists in New York. The preliminary reports were guardedly optimistic: severe pneumonia compounded by long-term exhaustion and poor nutrition, but fully treatable with proper medical care.
I took Lily to my home in Bay Ridge—a gated stone mansion overlooking the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge.
She walked through the grand foyer, her wet sneakers squeaking against the polished Italian marble floor. She looked up at the towering chandelier, the oil paintings of old freight ships, and the massive winding staircase.
“It’s big,” she said.
“It’s yours,” I replied, taking her thin coat and handing it to my housekeeper, Mrs. Gable. “Mrs. Gable, please prepare the east bedroom suite for my daughter. Get her clean clothes, hot food, and anything else she wants.”
Mrs. Gable smiled warmly, her eyes glowing with kindness. “Right away, Mr. Moretti. Come along, sweetheart.”
As Lily followed her up the grand stairs, she paused on the landing, looking down at me through the wooden banisters.
“Dominic?” she called out.
“Yes, Lily?”
“Are you going to go fight the bad people now?”
May you like
I looked up at my daughter, feeling the full weight of the empire I had built—and the profound responsibility I now had to protect her from it.
“No, Lily,” I said gently. “I’m going to make sure they never come near us again.”
