Chapter 7
The silence in the science museum was absolute, a heavy, suffocating pressure that pressed down on the chests of everyone in the room. The bright video colors of the scattered foam planets and magnetic tiles created a surreal, vibrant battlefield. The natural, cinematic light cast sharp, unforgiving shadows over the two traitors bleeding on the floor.
Rocco Moretti slowly reached up and adjusted the cuffs of his tailored dress shirt, the heavy family signet ring catching the light. He smoothed the lapels of his dark three-piece suit. He had protected his daughter. He had neutralized the immediate threats. Now, he needed to secure the environment.
Rocco did not even have to speak the command. He simply raised a single, heavily tattooed finger.
Instantly, the white American bodyguards snapped into synchronized, lethal action. Bodyguards close every exit. The heavy glass and steel doors of the museum were pushed shut with resounding, definitive thuds. Thick deadbolts slid into place. Tall, broad-shouldered men in professional dark suits crossed their arms and stood in front of the elevators, the fire exits, and the main lobby doors.
The perimeter was entirely locked down. No one was getting out, and no one was getting in. The elite donors and guests who were not initiated members of the syndicate huddled together near the far wall, their fair skin pale with sheer terror, realizing they were now trapped in a room with a Don dispensing absolute judgment.
"Elias," Rocco murmured, his deep, gravelly voice carrying effortlessly in the quiet room.
His lead capo stepped forward, his hand resting casually near the concealed weapon inside his jacket. "Yes, Boss."
"Escort the civilians to the planetarium," Rocco ordered, his cold eyes never leaving the groaning forms of Celeste and Adrian. "Collect their phones. They will wait there until I am finished."
"Right away, Mr. Moretti," Elias nodded. He gestured to his men, who began to swiftly and silently herd the terrified guests out of the main exhibit hall and down a secure corridor.
Within ninety seconds, the hall was cleared of outsiders. Only the hardened capos, the bodyguards, the two traitors, and the Mafia boss remained.
Rocco turned his attention back to his daughter. Mia was standing perfectly still, her small hands clutching the edges of her elegant cardigan. The spare prescription glasses rested securely on her nose. She looked up at her father, completely trusting him despite the explosive violence she had just witnessed.
"Are you okay, Mia?" Rocco asked, dropping to one knee again, his voice softening entirely.
"My cheek hurts a little bit, Daddy," Mia whispered. "But I can see perfectly now."
Rocco smiled, a rare, genuine expression that transformed his handsome, imposing face. "Good girl. You are incredibly brave. I need you to go with Uncle Elias for just a few minutes. He is going to get you some ice cream from the catering kitchen. Can you do that for me?"
"Okay," Mia nodded. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck one last time, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Daddy."
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"I love you too, my beautiful girl," Rocco murmured fiercely.
He handed her gently to Elias, who scooped the little girl up and carried her quickly out of the exhibit hall. Once the heavy doors closed behind his daughter, Rocco stood back up to his full, deeply masculine height. The tender father vanished completely. The monster of Boston had returned, and he was ready to extract the truth.
