Chapter Four: The Unseen Pieces

A heavy silence hung in the study, disturbed only by the slow, rhythmic crackling of the fireplace. The dim lighting cast elongated shadows across the wooden floors, flickering against the towering bookshelves.

Vincenzo stood by the window, his back to the room, his gaze fixed on the distant glow of the city. He barely blinked, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored vest. The weight of Marco's words lingered in the air.

"Signore… it's time."

Vincenzo's reflection in the glass was unreadable. He exhaled slowly, then turned, his dark eyes meeting Marco's with quiet intensity.

"The investigation is complete?" His voice was calm—too calm.

Marco nodded, stepping further into the room. "Yes. Our men cleared the warehouse. It was bugged."

A muscle in Vincenzo's jaw twitched.

"Hidden cameras?" he asked, his voice a steady but sharp whisper.

Marco hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "The cameras were high-end, state-of-the-art. Far beyond what we usually see in our competitors. They weren't simple surveillance tools." He paused, letting the weight of the words settle in. "There's a server we've traced back to an unknown location. Whoever set these up knew what they were doing. It's more than just basic spying—they're keeping a detailed record of everything, every movement, every conversation."

Vincenzo absorbed this in silence, his mind running through the possibilities. "How long have these cameras been operational?" His voice remained calm, but there was an edge to it—something that betrayed his concern.

"We're still tracing the full timeline," Marco replied. "But the depth of the setup suggests it's been active for some time. The servers, they're not easily tracked. Whoever is behind this is both methodical and cautious."

Vincenzo's fingers tightened around the crystal decanter on the nearby table, but his face remained composed. "And the trail? The cloth with the blood? How is that investigation progressing?"

Marco hesitated. "We've got our people on it. It's being processed, but we don't have anything definitive yet. They're tracing the fibers, seeing if they can pull anything useful from the blood."

Vincenzo's eyes narrowed, his thoughts moving like gears in a well-oiled machine. He swallowed the drink in one smooth motion. "I don't like uncertainty," he muttered. "Someone is moving carefully. Too carefully. We need to be ready for anything."

Marco's gaze shifted to the window, noticing the tense stillness in Vincenzo's posture. "Agreed. We'll find the answers soon."

Vincenzo gave a barely perceptible nod. "Gather the subheads," he ordered.

---

The meeting hall inside the Moretti estate was a testament to power. The long, polished table gleamed under the soft glow of the chandelier. A massive map of the city covered one wall, with various territories marked and lines drawn between them. Seated around the table were the sub-heads—men who controlled different aspects of the Moretti empire.

As Vincenzo and Marco entered, the murmurs ceased. All eyes turned to the young Don.

Vincenzo took his seat at the head of the table, fingers laced together. He scanned the faces before him, measuring their loyalty, their fear, their ambition. Then, he spoke.

"The last few months have tested us. Shipments intercepted. Eyes watching us. There is a war brewing in the shadows, and we will not be caught unprepared."

Silence. The weight of his words settled like a heavy fog in the room.

"Alessandro," Vincenzo continued, turning to the man responsible for logistics. "Tighter security on all shipments. Nothing moves without clearance from our own men, and I want double confirmation at every checkpoint."

Alessandro gave a firm nod. "Understood, Don."

"Silvio." Vincenzo's gaze shifted to the man who oversaw external communications. "I want eyes and ears in places they've never been before. The city whispers, and I intend to hear everything."

Silvio inclined his head. "Consider it done."

"Enzo." The man who handled enforcement straightened. "I want our presence felt. Whoever thinks they can challenge us needs to be reminded why the Moretti name has ruled for decades."

Enzo smirked, his knuckles cracking. "They won't forget, Don."

Vincenzo leaned back slightly, surveying them. "This is only the beginning. We do not react—we control. We do not wait—we strike first. If someone wishes to move against us, we will not just end them. We will erase them."

The men at the table nodded in silent agreement.

Vincenzo's voice lowered. "And so, as always, we stand together."

He looked each of them in the eyes before speaking the words his father once had, words that had been spoken by every Moretti leader before him.

"Non siamo nati per fallire. Noi dominiamo."

The men at the table sat straighter, the room thick with unity and resolve. Then, as one, they answered—

"Forza Moretti!"

The air was electric. The meeting was over.

---

Once the last of the men had exited, Vincenzo remained seated at the table. Marco stood nearby, watching him carefully. The tension in the room was palpable as Vincenzo reached for a notepad and scribbled down several names. He pushed the paper across the table toward Marco.

"Take care of this," Vincenzo said, his voice a low murmur. "I want the Shadow Unit on them. Keep their movements under constant surveillance. Let's see where this trail leads."

Marco took the paper, his eyes scanning the names. He didn't speak right away, but the look in his eyes told Vincenzo everything he needed to know. These were the people who had caught his attention. There was something about them—something that didn't sit right.

"You think they're involved?" Marco asked quietly, slipping the paper into his jacket pocket.

Vincenzo's gaze remained steady, his voice unwavering. "I think we'll find something interesting. Keep your eyes open. This is just the beginning."

Marco nodded, a slight smirk forming on his lips. "Understood."

Vincenzo's mind was already moving ahead. "And one more thing," he added casually. "It's time we put Theo to work."

Marco paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "Theo?"

Vincenzo's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile. "Let's see if our ghost can dig up something useful."