Chapter 4 - The Shadows in the Garden
By eight o’clock that evening, the heavy rain had turned into a thick, clinging fog that rolled off Narragansett Bay, wrapping the estate in an opaque gray shroud.
The main house was quiet.
I stood on the covered stone patio outside the kitchen wing, smoking one of my father’s old cigars. The blue smoke drifted slowly into the cold night air, disappearing into the mist.
Behind me, the screen door creaked open.
Sophia Rossi stepped out onto the porch. She was no longer wearing her apron, but a simple wool coat. In her hands, she carried a small tray with two ceramic mugs of hot tea.
“Signor Moretti,” she said quietly, her voice still laced with lingering anxiety.
“Sophia,” I replied, turning to her. “How is Emma?”
“She is sleeping,” Sophia murmured, setting the tray down on a rustic wooden table. “I gave her warm milk with honey. She was so afraid she had done something wrong, Alessandro… she thought you were going to punish her for screaming in the church.”
I felt a sharp pain in my chest—a feeling I hadn't experienced in years.
I walked over to the table and picked up one of the mugs. “She did nothing wrong, Sophia. She showed more courage than half the men sitting in those pews today.”
Sophia looked up at me, her eyes filled with quiet dignity. “I worked for your mother for twelve years, Alessandro. I remember when you were a ten-year-old boy playing in these gardens. Your father was a hard man… a scary man. But your mother always told me that you had a heart beneath the armor.”
“In our business, a heart is a liability, Sophia,” I said softly, looking out into the foggy garden.
“No,” Sophia said firmly, stepping closer to me. “A heart is the only thing that keeps you from becoming a monster like the men who tried to destroy you today.”
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small, folded envelope, placing it on the table next to the tea tray.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Emma found it two weeks ago near the service gate,” Sophia explained. “She didn't know what it was, so she hid it in her doll’s outfit. I found it when I was packing her things earlier tonight.”
I picked up the envelope and opened it.
Inside was a key card stamped with a golden crest—the emblem of the Hotel Grand Paragon in downtown Providence—and a handwritten slip of paper containing a list of dates, shipping container serial numbers, and monetary figures totaling over fourteen million dollars.
At the bottom of the slip of paper was a signature written in sharp, aggressive cursive:
Victor Chenier.
The head of the Chenier syndicate—the most powerful French-Canadian cartel operating out of Montreal and Boston.
My hand tightened around the paper until the corners crumpled.
Ryan hadn't been acting alone as a greedy rogue stepbrother. He had sold out the Moretti family’s shipping lines to the Chenier cartel, preparing to hand over our entire New England infrastructure in exchange for a seat at their table once I was put in the ground.
“Sophia,” I said, looking her dead in the eye.
“Yes, Signor?”
“Pack your bags and Emma’s bags tonight,” I instructed her. “My private driver will take you both to our estate in Vermont. You will have a full security detail, a house of your own, and Emma’s education will be fully funded at any university she chooses in the future.”
Sophia’s mouth trembled. “Alessandro… we cannot take your charity—”
“It is not charity, Sophia,” I said gently, touching her shoulder. “It is a debt of honor. The Moretti family protects those who protect them. You and your daughter are under my personal protection for the rest of your lives.”
Tears welled in the woman’s eyes as she bowed her head in gratitude and slipped back inside the house.
I looked down at the key card in my hand.
The battle inside my estate was over. But the war for the Moretti empire was just beginning.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Luca.
“Luca,” I said into the speaker.
May you like
“I’m in the boathouse with Ryan, Boss,” Luca replied, his voice cold and steady. “He’s ready to talk.”
“Don't bother making him talk,” I said. “I already have what I need. Get the tactical team ready. We are paying a late-night visit to the Hotel Grand Paragon.”
