Chapter 10 - THE ERASED DEBT
At eleven o'clock that evening, the heavy, reinforced rear doors of an illegal gambling club in Cicero were kicked off their hinges with explosive, shattering force.
Before the smoke from the breach charges could even clear, Lorenzo Moretti walked into the dimly lit, velvet-lined room.
He did not carry a weapon in his hand. He moved with slow, majestic, and terrifying authority, his heavy boots striking the hardwood floor as his enforcers systematically disarmed and pinned six screaming loan-shark guards against the walls.
In the center of the room, Jimmy "The Needle" Russo—a rat-faced man in an expensive track jacket—sat paralyzed behind his desk, his face draining of all color as he recognized the giant, tattooed boss of the Moretti syndicate standing before him.
"Lorenzo... Don Lorenzo!" Russo stammered, his hands flying up into the air, his body shaking violently. "What... what is this?! We pay our percentage to your family every month! We're clean with you!"
Lorenzo walked slowly up to the desk. He didn't shout. He reached out with his left hand, grabbed Russo by his leather collar, and dragged the two-hundred-pound loan shark across the desk, slamming his face hard against the mahogany wood.
Lorenzo pulled out the photo of Elena’s broken apartment door and pressed it flat against Russo’s nose.
"Do you know whose door this is, Jimmy?" Lorenzo whispered softly into his ear.
Russo squinted at the photo, his breath coming in sharp, terrified gasps. "I... I don't know! It's just some laundry girl! A nurse who owes forty grand from her deadbeat husband—"
"Her name is Elena Carter," Lorenzo interrupted, his voice dropping into a register of absolute, terrifying doom. "She works in my house. Her daughter eats at my table. And you threatened her child."
Russo’s eyes went wide with pure, unadulterated horror. "My God... Lorenzo... I didn't know! I swear on my mother's grave I didn't know she was yours!"
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Lorenzo reached into his jacket, pulled out the eighty-thousand-dollar debt ledger, and tore the heavy paper into four pieces, letting the scraps fall over Russo’s bloodied face.
"The debt is paid," Lorenzo murmured softly. "And your business in Cicero is finished. If I ever hear your voice within ten miles of Gold Coast again... I won't send my men. I will come back myself."
