Chapter Six: Fire in Velvet
The first domino fell two days later.
An anonymous tip hit the desks of three ambitious federal prosecutors, exposing a deep ledger of tax fraud and racketeering with Giovanni Moretti's name scrawled across it in financial ink thick as arterial blood.
The next day, one of Luca Romano's lieutenants was found floating in the Calumet River, a bullet through each knee, throat slit clean like an old Sicilian vendetta.
By the end of the week, Giovanni's home—a fortress of imported marble and aging servants—had become a tomb of paranoia. Guards doubled. Calls monitored. Doors locked twice, then three times.
But none of it stopped the fear, because Giovanni Moretti knew who was behind the unraveling.
And for the first time in thirty years, the king of Chicago realized that his own blood was coming for him—and this time, it wasn't to kiss the ring.