Chapter 6 - THE FAMILY TABLE
Dante wanted to move Eliza to a guarded Moretti property.
She refused.
“I’m not disappearing into one of your houses while you decide which laws apply.”
“Rocco knows where you live and work.”
“Then the police need to know where I am.”
Detective Morales arranged temporary protection and moved Eliza to her aunt’s vacant condo near Oak Park. Nero remained at the veterinary hospital, guarded by off-duty officers under an evidence-preservation order because blood and fibers from his collar were now part of the case.
Three days later, Rocco contacted Dante’s mother, Lucia Moretti.
He requested a family dinner.
He claimed he wanted to prevent “outsiders” from destroying what the family had built.
Dante believed the invitation was a trap.
Detective Morales believed it was an opportunity.
The meeting took place at Lucia’s townhouse under surveillance approved as part of the ongoing investigation. No hidden recording appeared from nowhere. Officers documented the plan in advance, stationed teams nearby and fitted Dante with a monitored transmitter after his attorney negotiated the conditions.
Eliza attended for one reason.
Rocco demanded that Owen’s ledger and the bullet be brought to the table. He believed Eliza still controlled both.
She entered Lucia’s dining room beside Dante.
Rocco sat beneath a portrait of Dante’s father. Victor stood near the window.
Lucia occupied the head of the table, a small woman in black who looked at the men around her with exhausted disgust.
Rocco glanced toward Eliza.
“The nurse who stole a dog.”
“I rescued him.”
“You involved yourself in matters you don’t understand.”
“You shot an animal because he recognized your men.”
Victor’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Dante saw it.
“So did Nero,” he said.
Rocco poured wine as though no one had spoken.
He claimed Dante had grown weak, wasting money on legitimate companies and allowing federal investigators to squeeze the family. He said the organization needed someone willing to act before asking permission.
“You mean someone willing to steal from his sister’s son,” Lucia said.
Rocco looked at her.
“I kept this family alive after your husband died.”
“You taught Dante that gratitude required obedience.”
The accusation carried years of silence.
Dante placed copies of the ledger and vehicle reports on the table.
“You used Victor to open the warehouse.”
Rocco smiled.
“You used a nurse and a frightened boy to bring police into your mother’s home.”
“Owen is twenty-six,” Eliza said. “Stop calling him a boy when you mean someone you manipulated.”
Rocco leaned back.
“Your brother came to me. He wanted money and respect. I offered both.”
That was the truth Owen needed to hear.
Detective Morales had arranged for him to listen from a secure location while preparing his formal statement.
Rocco continued.
“A resentful brother will sell what an enemy could never reach.”
Dante’s face remained still, but his right hand closed beneath the table.
Eliza understood what Rocco wanted.
Anger.
Violence.
Proof that Dante would choose family vengeance over lawful exposure.
“Where is the bullet?” Rocco asked her.
“With the police.”
Victor drew his weapon.
Dante moved first, knocking the gun arm toward the wall. A single shot struck the ceiling.
Officers entered within seconds.
Victor was taken to the floor.
Rocco did not run.
He simply looked at Dante with disappointment.
“You let them into your mother’s house.”
Dante stepped away from him.
“No. You did.”
As officers escorted Rocco out, Lucia remained seated beneath her husband’s portrait.
She looked at Dante.
“Will they arrest you too?”
Dante glanced toward the business records he had surrendered.
“Maybe.”
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For the first time, the ruthless man Eliza had feared did not appear powerful.
He appeared like a son who had finally stopped asking his family to excuse what it had become.
