Chapter 6: The Architect of Shadows**
Carmine Moretti did not sit. The atmosphere in the room crystallized into absolute hostility. The four guards behind Carmine reached under their coats, but before their fingers could grip steel, the side doors swung wide. Marco and six heavily armed operators filed in, training red laser sights squarely onto the chests of Moretti’s men.
"You're outmatched, Carmine," Damon said, not even raising his voice. "And before you wonder about your leverage in Detroit, your safe house is empty. The boy is currently eating pancakes in my private hangar, waiting to be reunited with his father."
Moretti’s face drained of color, his arrogance evaporating into cold fury. "Victor talked."
"Victor didn't have to," Damon said, tapping the crayon sketch on the table. "A five-year-old girl who loves her uncle saw what your professional killers missed. She noticed the timestamp. She noticed the hesitation. You thought you were fighting a chess match against a syndicate, Carmine. You forgot that family fights harder than greed."
Moretti scoffed, though his voice lacked conviction. "So what now? You kill me here, Vance? You start a full-scale war in the streets of Chicago? The Commission will tear your territory apart."
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"I don't need to kill you, Carmine," Damon answered, leaning forward, his dark eyes burning with terrifying clarity. "Killing you makes you a martyr. Instead, I’m going to strip you of everything you hold dear—your ports, your money, and your freedom. Because while you were busy planning my murder, Marco seized the financial ledgers from your Detroit facility. Everything goes to the Federal Bureau by noon."
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