Chapter 6: The Traitor at the Table
The photograph remained in Vincent Moretti's pocket all night.
I CAN SEE EVERYTHING YOU LOVE.
He had received death threats before.
Thousands of them.
Anonymous letters.
Bullets wrapped inside envelopes.
Explosives beneath luxury cars.
None had ever disturbed him.
This one did.
Not because it threatened his life.
Because it proved someone had watched innocent children playing in what should have been the safest place in Chicago.
Someone had watched them without fear.
That meant only one thing.
The enemy believed they had someone on the inside.
Before sunrise, Vincent ordered every member of his organization to assemble inside Bellarosa Manor.
More than forty trusted men filled the underground conference hall.
Some had worked beside him for twenty years.
Others had grown up with him in the old neighborhoods of Chicago.
Every one of them swore absolute loyalty.
Vincent looked across the room.
"Someone betrayed us."
Silence.
"I don't know who."
His voice remained calm.
"But I will."
No one dared blink.
Marco placed several folders on the conference table.
Each contained security reports from the previous seventy-two hours.
Vehicle movements.
Phone records.
Guard schedules.
No one had been allowed outside the estate without authorization.
At least...
According to the reports.
Vincent slowly walked around the room.
"You've all risked your lives for this family."
He stopped behind Anthony Russo.
Anthony had served him for eighteen years.
"I've buried brothers beside some of you."
He continued walking.
"I've trusted you with my life."
Then he stopped beside another captain.
Luca Ferraro.
Twenty-three years of loyalty.
Still nothing.
Finally Vincent reached the end of the table.
"And one of you sold children."
The room exploded.
"What?"
"Boss!"
"Impossible!"
Vincent raised one hand.
Instant silence returned.
"I'm not accusing."
"I'm investigating."
Upstairs, Emma watched from the security monitors.
Maria gently touched her shoulder.
"You shouldn't watch this."
Emma shook her head.
"I've seen worse."
Maria's eyes filled with sadness.
No child should ever be able to say those words.
Downstairs, Vincent began asking questions.
One by one.
Where were you Tuesday night?
Who approved Warehouse Nine?
Who handled shipping manifests?
Who authorized maintenance crews?
Every answer seemed reasonable.
Too reasonable.
Someone had prepared.
Hours passed.
Nothing.
Marco approached quietly.
"They're clean."
Vincent frowned.
"No."
"They're careful."
Meanwhile...
Buddy suddenly began barking upstairs.
Not playfully.
Warning barks.
Emma immediately looked toward the hallway.
Buddy raced toward the mansion's west wing.
Noah chased after him.
"Buddy!"
The puppy stopped outside a guest bedroom.
Growling.
Scratching at the closed door.
Marco arrived seconds later.
"Open it."
Two guards entered carefully.
Empty.
Nothing unusual.
Until Buddy crawled beneath the bed.
His barking became frantic.
One guard reached underneath.
Pulled out...
A tiny wireless camera.
The room froze.
Someone had hidden surveillance equipment inside Bellarosa Manor.
Vincent examined the device.
Professional quality.
Military-grade battery.
Encrypted transmitter.
"This wasn't placed by an amateur."
Marco nodded.
"It had help."
The camera overlooked the children's hallway.
Every movement.
Every conversation.
Recorded.
Someone inside the mansion had installed it.
Vincent immediately ordered a complete search.
Three more cameras appeared.
One inside the library.
One overlooking the rear garden.
One hidden inside a smoke detector outside Emma's room.
The traitor hadn't merely leaked information.
They had turned Bellarosa Manor into an open window.
That afternoon, Ava remembered something.
She sat quietly beside Buddy while Vincent questioned her.
"The man with the cane..."
Richard?
"I don't know his name."
"What about him?"
"He liked clocks."
Vincent frowned.
"Clocks?"
"There was always one ticking."
She closed her eyes.
"When he visited..."
"I heard church bells."
Marco looked confused.
"There are churches everywhere."
Ava shook her head.
"No."
"They rang every fifteen minutes."
Vincent suddenly looked toward Marco.
"St. Gabriel's."
Only one historic church in Chicago still rang its bell every quarter hour.
Less than two miles from...
An abandoned steel district.
Marco smiled.
"I think we found them."
Before moving, Vincent decided to set a trap.
Only five captains received the next piece of information.
"We attack tonight."
It was a lie.
There would be no attack.
If Richard learned about the operation...
The leak would reveal itself.
Hours later...
One of Vincent's cyber specialists rushed into the office.
"Boss."
"What?"
"A secure phone just transmitted encrypted coordinates."
"Whose phone?"
The technician hesitated.
Anthony Russo's.
The room became silent.
Anthony?
Impossible.
Vincent personally vouched for Anthony for nearly two decades.
Marco looked devastated.
"There has to be another explanation."
Vincent agreed.
"Bring him."
Anthony entered looking confused.
"You wanted me?"
Vincent placed the phone on the table.
"Explain."
Anthony stared.
"I've never seen that."
"It belongs to you."
"No."
Marco checked the serial number.
Registered under Anthony's name.
Anthony's face turned pale.
"My phone was missing yesterday."
Nobody had reported it.
Vincent studied him carefully.
Anthony wasn't acting guilty.
He looked...
Heartbroken.
"You think I did this."
"I think someone wants me to."
Anthony slowly removed his jacket.
Then his pistol.
He placed both on the table.
"You've trusted me since your father died."
"I know."
"If you believe I'm guilty..."
His voice cracked.
"...do what you have to."
The room remained silent.
Vincent looked directly into Anthony's eyes.
Twenty years.
Not once had Anthony lied to him.
Not once.
Vincent slid the pistol back.
"I believe you."
Relief flooded Anthony's face.
"But someone wants me to stop believing."
That evening, Marco received another drone report.
Movement.
The steel mill.
Several trucks leaving.
Vincent smiled.
"They know we found them."
"So our leak worked."
"Exactly."
The false attack information had forced the enemy to relocate.
Now they could follow.
Five SUVs silently tailed the convoy through abandoned industrial streets.
No headlights.
No sirens.
Only darkness.
The trucks finally entered an old freight terminal near the Chicago River.
Marco whispered,
"This place isn't on the ledger."
Vincent nodded.
"It's newer."
The convoy disappeared inside.
Minutes later...
Lights shut off.
Complete darkness.
Vincent looked toward his men.
"We wait."
Then Buddy began growling again.
Low.
Dangerously low.
Not toward the terminal.
Toward the bridge above them.
Vincent looked up.
A tiny red laser dot appeared...
On Marco's chest.
"Down!"
The sniper fired.
Glass exploded.
Bullets ripped through the SUVs.
Vincent tackled Marco behind concrete barriers.
Three more shots echoed.
Then silence.
The sniper vanished into the darkness once again.
But this time...
He had left something behind.
A black duffel bag hanging beneath the bridge.
Inside the bag was a child's backpack.
Pink.
Covered with glitter stars.
Emma immediately recognized it when they returned to the mansion.
"Mia..."
She whispered.
Opening the backpack, Vincent found school papers.
A broken pencil.
Half a chocolate bar.
And one folded note written in a child's careful handwriting.
It contained only one sentence.
Please don't stop looking for us.
Vincent folded the note carefully.
His expression hardened.
He looked toward the Chicago skyline beyond the mansion windows.
"They think we're chasing shadows."
Marco loaded his rifle.
"What now?"
Vincent answered quietly.
"Now..."
May you like
"We stop reacting."
"We hunt."
