Chapter 15 - The Intrusion of Table Nine’s Ghost
The peace of the Greenwich estate was an illusion that could not hold forever. In the dark underbelly of New York City, where billions in illicit wealth flowed through high-end restaurants, private ports, and corrupt political offices, Adrien Belandi’s sudden disappearance from public life was an earthquake.
In a penthouse overlooking Central Park, three men sat around a low marble table covered with surveillance photographs. At the head of the table sat Lorenzo Moretti, an older, ruthless syndicate don with slicked-back silver hair and gold rings on his scarred fingers.
Spread out before him were high-resolution telephoto prints taken the night before outside the VIP exit of Grand Aurelia. The images showed Adrien Belandi carrying Mia, surrounded by armed guards, walking alongside a young woman in an apron holding Julian and Lucas.
"Who is the girl?" Moretti growled, tapping a manicured fingernail against the photograph of Evelyn. "Belandi hasn't allowed a woman within fifty yards of his children since Elena took a bullet in Southampton. He paid four million to the Swiss institute last month, and now he walks out of an Italian bistro holding hands with a five-dollar-an-hour tray-carrier?"
A private investigator in a wrinkled trench coat leaned forward. "Her name is Evelyn Hart. Twenty-six. Lived in Queens, rent-controlled hovel. Employed at Grand Aurelia for three years. Clean record. No criminal ties, no bank accounts of interest. But here is the kicker, Don Lorenzo."
The investigator slid another photograph across the marble—an archival police report from twenty-six years ago featuring a missing-person bulletin for Clara Belandi.
Moretti’s eyes widened, a sinister grin spreading across his leathery face. "Clara’s bastard. Dominic’s lost blood."
"The children spoke last night, Don Lorenzo," the informant whispered. "My contact in the kitchen saw it. The waitress touched the little girl, and the girl called her 'Mama'. Belandi didn't just hire a nanny. He found the girl who holds the keys to his legacy."
Moretti stood up, leaning his heavy fists on the table, his smile turning cruel and predatory. "Belandi has been untouchable for seven years because he had no heart left to stab. His children were broken shells. But now? He has a niece. He has an heir. And his children have found their voice through her."
May you like
He looked at his lieutenant, a cold-eyed enforcer standing by the floor-to-ceiling glass.
"Put ten men outside the Greenwich perimeter. Track every delivery, every utility truck, every guard rotation," Moretti ordered coldly. "If Adrien Belandi’s family is finally waking up, we are going to make sure their waking nightmare begins now."
