Chapter 7 - The Unraveling of Victor Hale
In January, the Moretti empire faced an unexpected threat from within.
With Lorenzo distracted and absent from daily operations, a rogue faction of the family, led by a young, ambitious lieutenant named Dominic Vance, began making moves to seize control of the Brooklyn distribution networks.
Dominic had noticed Lorenzo’s weakness. He saw that the terrifying boss who once ruled New York with an iron fist had become a broken shell, spending his days in his penthouse office, ignoring business calls and obsessively reviewing missing persons reports.
On a cold Thursday evening, Dominic walked into Victor Hale’s private office at the docks.
"Victor," Dominic said, setting a heavy briefcase on the desk. "We need to talk about Lorenzo."
Victor looked up from his ledger, his eyes narrow and calm. "There is nothing to talk about, Dominic. Lorenzo is the head of this family."
"Lorenzo is an invalid," Dominic sneered, leaning over the desk. "He’s lost his mind over a woman who walked out on him six months ago. He missed the union vote yesterday. He missed the meeting with the Chicago representatives. The family is bleeding money, Victor, and if we don't act, the Lucchese family will take our docks by spring."
Victor closed his ledger slowly. "What are you proposing, Dominic?"
"A smooth transition," Dominic whispered, his eyes gleaming with greed. "We declare Lorenzo unfit under the family charter. You stay on as consigliere, I take over operational control, and we give Lorenzo a comfortable retirement at his estate in Long Island."
Victor stood up slowly. He walked to the window, looking out at the dark waters of the Hudson River.
He thought of Lorenzo’s father—a man who had built this organization on loyalty, honour, and family values. He thought of Lorenzo as a little boy, learning how to shoot a pistol in the woods behind the estate.
And then he thought of Vivien, living alone in a cold timber cottage in Maine, carrying the future of the Moretti bloodline in her belly.
"You think Lorenzo is weak, Dominic?" Victor asked softly, turning around.
"He's finished, Victor," Dominic scoffed.
Victor walked up to Dominic, reaching into his suit jacket. In one lightning-fast motion, he pulled a silenced pistol and pressed the cold steel barrel beneath Dominic’s chin.
Dominic’s eyes widened in sheer horror. "Victor—what are you—"
"Lorenzo is not weak, Dominic," Victor said, his voice as cold as the winter river outside. "He is simply grieving. And a grieving lion is still a lion. But you... you are a rat trying to steal crumbs while the king is sleeping."
Victor pulled the trigger twice.
The quiet muffled pops echoed softly in the office. Dominic collapsed onto the carpet without a sound.
May you like
Victor wiped his pistol with a silk handkerchief, picked up his phone, and dialed Lorenzo’s private line.
"Lorenzo," Victor said when the line connected. "Clean up crew needed at the dock office. And then I need you to meet me at the church on 14th Street. It's time we talked about where your wife is."
