Chapter 5 - The War Council
While Elena slept peacefully under the watchful eyes of the medical staff, a very different kind of gathering was taking place in the west wing of the estate.
Dante’s private war room was a windowless, soundproof bunker lined with massive digital maps and encrypted communication terminals.
His five most powerful capos sat around the heavy mahogany table, their expressions grim and strictly professional.
They had been summoned in the middle of the night, knowing that a midnight council meant only one thing.
Blood was about to be spilled on the streets of Boston.
Dante stood at the head of the table, his suit jacket discarded, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the dark ink of his syndicate tattoos.
"Victor Morreti thinks he has won a massive victory by forcing me to cancel our dinner meeting tonight," Dante began, his voice echoing coldly in the bunker.
"He believes I am weak, distracted, and easily manipulated."
"What Victor does not know is that my investigator just uncovered the exact routing numbers for the offshore accounts used to pay Marcus seven years ago."
Dante tossed a thick, sealed manila folder onto the center of the table.
"The money that funded the assassination attempt on my fiancée came directly from Victor's personal holding company in the Caymans."
The capos leaned forward, the tension in the room instantly skyrocketing to a lethal, volatile level.
"Victor ordered the hit on Elena, and he used my own underboss to pull the trigger," Dante stated, his eyes burning with absolute, unforgiving wrath.
"He stole seven years of my life, he forced my children to grow up in poverty, and he almost killed the woman I love."
"This is no longer a battle over shipping routes or territorial disputes."
"This is a blood feud, and it ends when Victor Morreti is completely erased from existence."
Nico, sitting to Dante's right, cracked his knuckles, a dark, predatory smile slowly spreading across his face.
"Give us the word, Boss, and we will turn his entire operation into a graveyard before sunrise," Nico promised fiercely.
"No," Dante replied, slamming his hand flat against the mahogany table.
"Victor has been preparing for a war, and he expects us to strike blindly and aggressively."
"We are not going to attack his foot soldiers or bomb his warehouses."
"We are going to dismantle his political protection, freeze his illicit assets, and isolate him completely from his allies."
Dante pointed to a specific location on the digital map of the city.
"Victor is hosting a massive, high-profile charity gala at his private country club tomorrow night to celebrate his new political connections."
"He will be surrounded by corrupt judges, bribed police captains, and wealthy investors who think he is untouchable."
"We are going to walk right through the front doors of that gala, and we are going to expose him in front of the entire world."
One of the older capos frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the highly visible, incredibly risky strategy.
"Boss, walking into his stronghold during a public event is practically suicide," the capo warned.
"His security detail will be heavily armed, and the police presence will be massive."
Dante looked at the older man, his expression completely devoid of any fear or hesitation.
"I am not planning to start a chaotic shootout in a crowded ballroom," Dante clarified.
"I am going to hand the federal authorities the exact proof of Victor's horrific crimes, and I am going to watch them put him in handcuffs."
"And when he is stripped of his power, his money, and his reputation..."
"I will personally be waiting for him when he makes bail."
The capos nodded slowly, understanding the cold, brilliant cruelty of Dante's master plan.
He was not just going to kill Victor Morreti.
He was going to completely, utterly destroy his legacy first.
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"Mobilize the teams, secure the perimeter of this estate, and do not let anyone in or out without my explicit permission," Dante ordered.
"The war begins tomorrow night."
