Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Syndicate
By 3:00 PM, the storm outside had turned into a full-scale winter blizzard.
I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of the primary drawing room, wrapped in a dark cashmere sweater, watching the black SUV drive away down the long, winding driveway.
Inside the car was Enzo Moretti, stripped of his primary territory, stripped of his wife, and stripped of the quiet dignity he had taken for granted for five years.
Standing beside me in the drawing room were six men.
They were the senior Capos of the Romano network—men with graying hair, hardened faces, and heavy leather jackets. Men who had served my father for thirty years before agreeing to follow Enzo during our marriage.
Uncle Mateo—my father’s most trusted advisor—stepped forward, holding a silver tray with two small glasses of dark red wine.
"It is done, Carmela," Mateo said, his deep voice carrying a solemn, paternal warmth. "The Capos in New York have ratified the separation. The Moretti name no longer holds authority over the Cicero docks or the transport lines."
"And Dante?" I asked, taking a glass.
"Dante was picked up by our men at the gas station on West Archer an hour ago," Mateo replied coldly. "He will not be testifying for Enzo, nor will he ever work in Illinois again."
I took a slow sip of the wine. The warmth spread down my throat, but the cold void in my heart remained entirely untouched.
"What about Bianca?" I asked.
"Enzo put her and the boy on a train to her sister's house in Indiana," Mateo said with a contemptuous sneer. "He stripped her of the Gold Coast townhouse and froze her bank accounts. She left Chicago with two suitcases and nothing else."
I looked out at the falling snow. "And Enzo?"
"He’s staying at a low-end hotel near the rail yards," Mateo answered. "He’s been drinking continuously since two o'clock. His remaining men are deserting him. Without the Romano backing, the Tatalias know he’s vulnerable. Marco Tatalia has already put a price on his head."
I turned away from the window, setting my wine glass down on the side table.
May you like
"Tell Marco Tatalia that if he touches Enzo Moretti before I am finished with him," I said, looking Mateo directly in the eyes, "the Romano family will destroy every shipping container his syndicate owns between here and Detroit."
Mateo bowed his head respectfully. "Understood, Don Carmela."
