Chapter 8 - The Shadow over the Harrington
The mention of the Moretti family dropped an instant, freezing shroud of silence over the grand office.
Natalie looked between Roman and Marco, her stomach tightening again. She knew enough about New York's shadowy underworld through hotel rumor mills to know that the Moretti name was synonymous with blood, extortion, and violence.
Roman walked slowly over to his desk, picking up the dark leather notebook Marco had provided. His large fingers flipped through the pages with methodical, cold precision.
"They paid Victoria one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to secure the digital access blueprints for the sub-basement vaults," Roman stated, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. "She was altering the food and beverage invoices to cover the installation of unauthorized communications relays in the cold storage rooms."
"The sub-basement vaults?" Natalie asked, standing up from her leather chair. "Those vaults haven't been used since the 1980s. They’re just old brick storage rooms beneath the main kitchen."
Roman turned his head toward her, his gaze intense. "That’s what the hotel blueprints show, Natalie. What the public blueprints don't show is that the sub-basement shares a structural foundation wall with the Federal Reserve depository two blocks south."
Natalie’s eyes widened in horror. "A vault breach..."
"They weren't trying to rob my hotel," Roman realized, his jaw setting hard. "They were using my property as a silent staging ground to drill through the limestone foundation into the federal reserves during the summit."
He closed the notebook with a heavy, decisive thud.
"Marco," Roman ordered sharply. "Secure the sub-basement immediately. Place six men on the lower kitchen corridors. No outside contractors enter this building without my personal biometric clearance."
"Understood, boss," Marco said, nodding before turning to exit the office.
"Wait," Natalie spoke up suddenly.
Both men stopped, looking at her in surprise.
Natalie stepped toward the desk, her green dress rustling quietly against the floor. "If you put six armed bodyguards in the sub-basement right now, the Moretti spotters outside the hotel will notice the shift in security immediately. They’ll know Victoria failed, they’ll cut their losses, and they’ll pull back into the shadows before you can catch whoever is directing them."
Roman searched her face, his interest piqued. "What are you suggesting, General Manager?"
"Leave the standard staff rotation in place," Natalie said, her mind working with fast, strategic clarity. "Harold and I know the lower kitchen vaults better than anyone. There is an old service elevator that runs directly from the cold storage room to the mechanical sub-station. If Victoria installed relays, they’ll be hidden behind the main ice-compressor units where the staff rarely looks."
Roman’s eyes narrowed into sharp points. "You are not going down into a dangerous vault structure to search for syndicate equipment, Natalie."
"I am the General Manager of this hotel, Roman," Natalie said, matching his dark, intense gaze without flinching. "You gave me the job to clean up the disaster. Let me clean it up."
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Roman stared at her for three long seconds. The sheer courage radiating from her small frame was intoxicating. Most hardened captains in his organization trembled when he raised his voice; this woman was offering to walk directly into a mob setup to protect his property.
"You don't go down there alone," Roman said, his tone absolute. "You go with me."
