Chapter 9 - The Reckoning at the Hangar
The rain was falling heavily over the dark, desolate airfield outside Worcester when our convoy arrived.
Three black SUVs pulled onto the wet tarmac, surrounding a small private jet whose engines were idling softly in the cold night air.
Dominic Moretti and his daughter Victoria stood near the boarding stairs, flanked by three tired, terrified bodyguards who looked ready to bolt at any moment.
Jack stepped out of his vehicle, wearing his dark trench coat, his face cold and unyielding. I stepped out right behind him, umbrella in hand, standing firmly at his side.
"Jack!" Moretti shouted over the roar of the jet engines, his hands raised slightly, his face pale and sunken. "Listen to me! We can talk about this! We're family! My father worked with your grandfather!"
"Family doesn't shoot through my office windows, Dominic," Jack said cleanly, his deep voice carrying easily through the wind and rain. "Family doesn't put rifle rounds three inches from the head of the woman I love."
My heart did a sudden, joyous flip at his words—the woman I love.
Victoria Moretti stepped forward, her blonde hair dripping with rain, her face twisted in rage. "This is her fault! That little bitch ruined our business! She turned you soft, Jack!"
Jack pulled a thick folder from his coat and dropped it onto the wet tarmac at Victoria’s feet.
"That is a full confession signed by your primary pilot, Victoria," Jack stated. "He gave federal authorities the flight logs detailing your illegal offshore currency smuggling over the last four years. Federal marshals are entering the airport parking lot right now."
In the distance, red and blue police lights began flashing through the trees surrounding the airfield, sirens wailing through the night.
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Dominic Moretti sank to his knees on the wet asphalt, realizing that his freedom, his wealth, and his legacy had been completely erased without a single drop of blood being spilled on the tarmac.
"Get on your plane, Dominic," Jack said coldly. "Or stay and face thirty years in a federal prison. Either way, you will never set foot in New England again."
