"Being escorted out of state as we speak. The body—"
"Will disappear by morning. Cement. River. You know the drill."
Marco nodded. We'd done this before. Ricci would simply vanish—no body, no evidence, just rumors and speculation while his organization crumbled without leadership.
"What about the Calabrese family?" Marco asked. "They'll want answers about Ricci."
"They'll get a story about him fleeing to Europe with embezzled funds. I've already planted the evidence. By the time they figure out the truth, we'll be too entrenched for them to move against us." I checked my watch. "Let's go and find out Giuseppe’s fate."
Thirty minutes later, Giuseppe Moretti sat zip-tied to a chair in the underground apartment's living room, flanked by two of my soldiers. His expensive suit was rumpled, his silver hair disheveled, but his eyes still held that calculating gleam—the look of a man who believed he could talk his way out of anything.
Francesco sat in a second chair three feet away, also restrained, his head bowed. He wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. Good. He shouldn't.
Angelo had moved Sienna to the bedroom when my team arrived with the prisoners, giving her time to compose herself. Now I stood outside the bedroom door, hand raised to knock, steeling myself for what came next.
"Sienna," I called softly. "They're here. Are you ready?"
The door opened. She stood there, my mother's ring glinting on her finger, one hand resting protectively on her stomach. Her face was pale but composed, her eyes hard with determination.
"I'm ready," she said.
I offered her my hand. She took it, fingers intertwining with mine as we walked together into the living room.
Her eyes went first to Giuseppe, then to Francesco. Understanding dawned on her face.
"Francesco helped him," I said quietly. "Gave him the security codes, the guard rotations. Everything you needed to escape—he made sure you'd overhear it."
Giuseppe's eyes went to Sienna first, then to me, calculating even now. "Sienna,cara—"
"Don't." Her voice was ice. I felt her hand tighten in mine. "You don't get to call me that. Not after what you tried to do."
"I was protecting the family—"
"You tried to have me killed!" Her voice rose, the control finally cracking. "Your own niece. Your brother's daughter. And my baby—" Her free hand moved to her stomach. "You were going to murder your own blood and frame my husband for it."
Giuseppe had the grace to look away. "It was never personal, Sienna. It was business. Strategy."
"That's supposed to make it better?" She laughed bitterly. "You sound just like my father. 'It's just business, cara. Don't let emotion cloud your judgment.'" She stepped closer to him, forcing him to meet her eyes. "But this IS personal. You made it personal when you decided my life was worth less than your ambition."
"I didn't want to hurt you," Giuseppe said quietly. "But Luca was using you—using the marriage to seize control of both families. I had to—"
"You ‘had to’ nothing." I cut him off. "You wanted power. Pure and simple. Don Moretti was dying, and you couldn't stand that he mightname Sienna as his successor. That the family might pass to someone who actually cared about more than territory and profit."
Giuseppe's mask slipped, revealing the calculation beneath. "And what would you have done, Romano? If your father had planned to pass you over? If everything you'd fought for was about to go to someone else?"
"I'd have accepted it," I said flatly. "Because family means more than power. Something you'll never understand."
Sienna looked between us, then settled her gaze on her uncle. "Did you know? That my father wanted me to inherit?"
Giuseppe hesitated, then nodded. "He told me six months ago. Said you had the temperament for leadership—that you saw beyond the immediate profit to the long-term stability. That you understood loyalty in a way I never had." His voice turned bitter. "His own brother, and he was going to pass me over for a girl barely out of college."
"So you decided to kill me instead." Sienna's voice was hollow. "Rather than accept his decision, you'd rather see me dead."
"I would have made you a generous offer," Giuseppe protested. "A settlement, a legitimate business, a life away from all this violence. But you chose to stay with Romano. Chose to carry his child. That changed everything."
"Because a Romano-Moretti heir threatened your plans," I said. "United both families under a single bloodline you couldn't control."
Giuseppe said nothing, but his silence was confirmation enough.
