Chapter 3 - THE RAT IN THE BASEMENTThe basement of the Moretti estate was a subterranean labyrinth of reinforced concrete, wine cellars, and secure server rooms. It was built during the Prohibition era and had been modernized with high-tech surveillance systems that monitored every square inch of the property.
Lucas walked down the cold stone stairs without making a sound, holding his suppressed pistol low at his side.
As he reached the end of the long corridor leading to the main security hub, he heard low, urgent voices coming from behind the heavy steel door, which was left slightly ajar.
Lucas leaned against the damp concrete wall, listening intently.
"Is he dead yet?" a voice with a heavy Italian accent asked over a secure radio speaker. It was Marco Falcone—the surviving boss of the Falcone syndicate.
"No," Mateo’s voice replied, sharp and agitated. "The damn maid’s kid was on the landing. She had a medical inhaler and forced air into his lungs before the compound could fully shut down his diaphragm."
A harsh laugh came through the radio speaker. "A maid's kid saved the great Lucas Moretti? That's poetic, Mateo. But it changes nothing. The hit was supposed to look natural before the captains arrived tomorrow."
"I know!" Mateo snapped, pacing back and forth inside the room. "It doesn't matter. He’s weak. The poison is still in his system. Tomorrow morning, during the memorial service in the garden, your men will breach the North gate as planned. You kill Lucas, you kill the captains who remain loyal to him, and I take formal control of the legitimate holdings. We split the logistics revenue fifty-fifty, just like we agreed three years ago."
"And the bomb three years ago?" Marco Falcone asked with a sinister chuckle. "You still owe me twenty million for providing the plastic explosives that took out his wife and son."
"You were paid ten million, Marco," Mateo said coldly. "You’ll get the rest once Lucas is in the ground. Just make sure your shooters are in position at 9:00 AM sharp. And Marco... tell your men to execute the housekeeper and her daughter first. I don't want any loose ends."
"Consider them dead," Marco said, and the static cut off.
Outside the door, Lucas felt the blood in his veins turn into pure fire.
Every lie, every betrayal, every piece of fake sympathy Mateo had offered over the last three years played through Lucas’s mind like a grotesque theater show. Mateo hadn't just murdered Isabella and Daniel—he had watched Lucas grieve every single day, pretending to be his rock while secretly plotting his final destruction.
Lucas raised his gun, ready to kick the door open and put a bullet through Mateo’s skull.
But he stopped his foot inches from the steel frame.
Shooting Mateo now in the basement was too quick. Too clean. Mateo deserved to be dismantled in front of the very empire he had tried so desperately to steal. He deserved to suffer the ultimate, public humiliation and utter terror before he died.
Lucas slowly backed away from the door, slipping silently up the stone stairs back to the main house.
Twenty minutes later, a fast-moving black SUV pulled up to the rear service gate of the estate. Paulie opened the gate, allowing Dr. Julian Vance to slip inside unnoticed carrying a heavy medical bag.
Lucas met Julian in the third-floor guest suite.
While Julian immediately set up a nebulizer treatment for little Lily, who was sitting up in bed drinking warm tea, Lucas pulled Julian into the adjoining bathroom.
"How is she?" Lucas asked.
"She’s fine," Julian said, adjusting his glasses. "The fever is breaking, and the nebulizer is opening her airways. She’s a strong little girl, Lucas. Another hour without medicine, though... it could have been fatal."
Lucas took a deep breath, looking through the cracked door at Lily, who was holding her rabbit and smiling softly as Sarah stroked her hair.
"Did you bring the testing kit?" Lucas asked.
Julian pulled a small electronic diagnostic scanner and three glass vials from his bag. "I took a sample from the glass of scotch Paulie brought me from your study. The results came back three minutes ago."
Julian handed Lucas a printed readout.
"It’s Tetrafluorine-B," Julian explained in a low voice. "It’s a rare, military-grade respiratory toxin developed in Eastern Europe. It paralyzes the bronchial muscles within fifteen minutes of ingestion, making it look like a sudden, fatal asthmatic seizure or cardiac arrest. It leaves almost no trace in a standard autopsy."
"Where would someone get it?"
"Only high-level criminal syndicates or rogue intelligence brokers," Julian replied. "And Lucas... the antidote is simple Albuterol administered immediately upon onset, which is precisely what that child’s inhaler provided. She literally neutralized a military toxin with a fifteen-dollar pharmacy prescription."
A dark, icy smile finally touched Lucas’s lips. "Poetic justice."
Lucas turned to Sarah, who walked over with tears of gratitude running down her face. "Mr. Moretti, the doctor said Lily is going to be completely okay. I don't know how to ever thank you—"
"You don't thank me, Sarah," Lucas said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I owe you and your daughter everything. But I need you to do one more thing for me."
"Anything," Sarah said without hesitation.
"Paulie is going to take you and Lily to a safe house in Connecticut right now," Lucas instructed. "There is a private helicopter waiting at the local airfield. I am sending you to my personal villa in Switzerland tomorrow afternoon. You will have a new life, Sarah. A house, a trust fund for Lily’s education, and permanent security."
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Sarah’s mouth fell open. "Mr. Moretti... we can't accept that—"
"You saved my life, Sarah," Lucas said softly, looking at Lily, who was drifting off to sleep under the warm blanket. "And tomorrow morning, I am going to make sure no one ever threatens your child again."
