Chapter 3 - Alessandro Moretti Commands The Restaurant To Lock Down
The ambient jazz music playing softly over the restaurant speakers suddenly cut out with a sharp pop. Alessandro raised his right hand, a universal signal that commanded absolute obedience from every staff member in the room.
"Lock the front doors," Alessandro instructed his second bodyguard, who immediately walked toward the grand entrance. "No one leaves L’Étoile Noir until I say otherwise. Send the valet home; cancel all incoming reservations."
Several wealthy diners began to protest, but the mere sight of Alessandro’s silver lapel pin silenced them instantly. In New York, crossing the Moretti family meant your business dissolved before the sun rose the next morning.
Camilla tried to slip toward the exit, but the bodyguard by the door crossed his arms and blocked her path. "My followers are watching this live! You cannot keep me locked in here like a common criminal!" she shrieked.
"Put the phone down, Camilla, or I will feed it to you," Alessandro said without even turning around to look at her. Camilla gasped, her face flushing crimson as she reluctantly lowered her phone and ended the stream.
The silence that settled over the dining room was heavy, oppressive, and filled with unspoken dread. Every eye in the house was now turned toward table four, where a poor waitress had inadvertently upended an empire.
Alessandro turned his full attention back to me, his expression unreadable in the dim restaurant lighting. "You have courage, Sophie, or perhaps just a death wish," he observed quietly.
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"I have rent due on Friday and an empty pantry, Mr. Moretti. Courage is a luxury I cannot afford," I answered. A faint, humorless smile touched the corners of Alessandro’s mouth at my blunt honesty.
"Poverty has a way of sharpening the mind," Alessandro agreed, stepping closer until I could smell sandalwood and cold rain. "Tell me everything your father told you about container seventeen."
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