Chapter 3 - The Cold Cellar
The hidden basement of the Romano estate was definitely not designed for storing vintage wine.
It was a windowless, soundproofed room built deep underground with thick concrete walls and heavy, reinforced steel doors.
The stale air down there was always freezing, retaining a chilling dampness no matter how hot the summer sun burned outside.
Allessandro slowly walked down the spiraling concrete steps, the sharp click of his leather shoes echoing like a metronome counting down a life.
He pushed open the heavy door and found Isabella sitting in a rusted metal chair right in the center of the harsh, blinding overhead light.
Her delicate wrists were brutally bound behind her back with thick, inescapable industrial zip ties that cut into her pale skin.
Her expensive, pearl-colored silk robe was now hopelessly stained with basement dust, sweat, and the black streaks of her ruined makeup.
Carlo stood quietly in the darkest corner of the room, his muscular arms crossed over his massive chest, watching the scene with dead eyes.
Allessandro pulled up a splintered wooden stool and sat down directly in front of his ruined fiancée.
"I will ask you this question one last time before things become deeply unpleasant," he said, his voice entirely stripped of all human emotion.
"Who supplied you with the poison, and who ordered the hit?"
Isabella glared at him with red, swollen eyes, her mascara running down her cheeks looking like tears of black tar.
"You think you are so incredibly smart, Allessandro," she mocked bitterly, letting out a dry, broken sob.
"You really think you sit on a throne and control everything that happens in this godforsaken city."
He sighed softly, a sound of genuine disappointment, and leaned forward until he was mere inches from her trembling face.
"I control whether you ever get to see the sun rise again, Isabella," he reminded her, the threat hanging in the freezing air like a blade.
She violently flinched at the cold, undeniable truth radiating from his dark eyes.
"They have my younger brother," she finally whispered, completely breaking under the psychological weight of his gaze.
"Who exactly has your brother?" he demanded, his voice dropping an octave.
"The Moretti family," she sobbed uncontrollably, hanging her head in deep, agonizing shame.
Allessandro felt a familiar, sharp spike of violent anger hit the center of his chest.
The Morettis were a ruthless rival crime syndicate operating entirely out of the neighboring city of Boston.
They had been aggressively and sloppily trying to move their illicit operations into Providence for the last five bloody years.
"They took him off the street three days ago while he was walking home from the university," Isabella confessed, her voice cracking with pure grief.
"They called me and said if I didn't slip the digitalis into your food, they would send him back to me in tiny, bloody pieces."
Allessandro stared at her, processing the cold medical reality of the assassination attempt.
Digitalis was a highly concentrated heart medication, but when administered in massive, unregulated doses, it caused a catastrophic cardiac arrest.
It would have looked exactly like a tragic, completely natural heart attack to any coroner who examined his body.
"So you cowardly decided to murder me in my own home instead of trusting the man you swore to marry," he noted dryly.
"I had absolutely no other choice in the matter!" she screamed, looking up at him with desperate, pleading eyes.
"If I told you the truth, you would have just started a street war, and they would have killed him instantly!"
Allessandro stood up slowly, the legs of the wooden stool scraping harshly against the concrete floor.
He looked down at the weeping woman he had foolishly planned to spend the rest of his life protecting.
"You are completely wrong about me," he said quietly, buttoning his suit jacket.
"I protect everything and everyone that belongs to my empire with my life."
"But you chose the path of betrayal and treason instead of simply asking for my help."
He turned his back on her and began to walk toward the heavy steel exit door.
"What are you going to do to me down here?" she cried out behind him, her voice reaching a frantic pitch of terror.
Allessandro stopped with his hand resting on the cold steel handle, but he did not look back at her.
"I am going to do absolutely nothing to you yet," he answered, his voice echoing in the chamber.
"But you are going to help me deliver a very personal, very bloody message to the Moretti family."
May you like
He stepped out of the freezing room and casually signaled Carlo to follow him up the stairs.
The inevitable war for the city had just officially begun.
