Chapter 9
The hallway outside the nursery was silent, the bright afternoon light streaming through the large arched windows. Viviana crossed her arms, her tailored pantsuit immaculate, her fair face an impenetrable mask of authority.
"What is the situation, Marcus?" Viviana demanded, her voice low and controlled.
Marcus held out the encrypted tablet. His rosy skin was slightly pale, betraying the severity of the intelligence he had just received.
"It’s the Moretti family, Boss," Marcus reported, his American accent clipped and professional. "When Damon missed his scheduled check-in window ten minutes ago, they didn't just wait. They initiated their contingency plan."
Viviana took the tablet. The screen displayed a live satellite feed of the eastern shipping ports—the primary artery of the Hale family's smuggling and logistical operations.
"Explain," Viviana said softly, her dark eyes scanning the footage.
"Three convoys of unmarked vehicles breached the perimeter of Port Four," Marcus explained, pointing to the screen. "They hit the gate hard. Over forty armed men. They aren't trying to steal the cargo, Viviana. They are locking the port down. They are setting up a siege."
Viviana’s jaw tightened. The Morettis had moved incredibly fast. Damon was supposed to be their inside man, softening the defenses from within. Without his signal, they had opted for a blunt, aggressive assault to secure a foothold in her territory.
"They think because Damon failed, we are in chaos," Viviana mused, her voice deadly calm. "They think a house divided is an easy target. They believe a woman dealing with a domestic coup will not have the stomach to order a slaughter."
"They have heavy weaponry, Boss," Marcus warned, his brow furrowed. "If we send our standard port security, it will be a bloodbath. They are digging in."
"I do not want standard port security," Viviana stated, handing the tablet back to her underboss. "I want the tactical strike teams. All of them. Equip them with armor-piercing rounds and heavy explosives."
Marcus blinked, slightly taken aback by the overwhelming escalation. "Boss, if we hit them with heavy explosives, we will destroy our own infrastructure. We'll lose millions in shipments."
"I do not care about the shipments," Viviana replied, her voice dropping into a chilling, absolute register. "I care about the message. The Morettis believed they could manipulate my pathetic husband, threaten my child, and walk onto my property without consequence."
She stepped closer to Marcus, her eyes burning with a cold, terrifying fire.
"Burn the port to the ground," Viviana commanded. "Burn the ships, burn the warehouses, and burn every single Moretti soldier standing inside the gates. Leave absolutely no survivors. Let the smoke blot out the sun."
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"Understood, Boss," Marcus nodded firmly, a dark, respectful smirk touching his lips as he realized the true depth of her ruthlessness. He tapped his earpiece, already relaying the devastating orders to the strike teams.
Viviana turned her gaze out the large arched window. The cinematic, bright sky was perfect and clear. But by nightfall, it would be painted red.
