Chapter 6 - The Visitor
The peace lasted exactly three months.
The black sedan didn't belong in Maine.
It looked like an oil stain on the pristine snow of the maritime road.
Lorenzo saw it from the upstairs study, his hand instinctively reaching for the empty space under the floorboards where his weapon used to be.
He didn't need it.
Victor Hale stood on the porch as the driver emerged.
It was a representative from the secondary partners in New York—men who had taken over the legitimate logistics firm.
Lorenzo walked to the door, his presence enough to make the man stop in his tracks.
"You’re violating the exile," Lorenzo said, his voice cold.
"The deal was for the organization, Lorenzo," the man said, eyes darting to the house. "But the partners are having trouble with the labor unions in the Bronx. They need your signature on the sub-contracts."
Vivien appeared in the doorway behind Lorenzo, her hand resting on her stomach, now noticeably prominent.
"He doesn't sign," she said.
"Vivien—" the man started.
"He is no longer your signatory," she interrupted. "If the partners can't manage the operations without a ghost from the past, then they aren't fit to own them."
She stepped forward, a vision of calm authority.
"Tell them the Moretti name is dead. If they come back, I’ll release the files the federal prosecutors didn't take."
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The man turned pale, retreated to his car, and vanished.
Lorenzo looked at his wife, realizing the "home" she had built was defended by a stronger resolve than any gun he had ever held.
