Chapter 18
The following afternoon, the city felt unusually tense. The sun beat down on the pavement, but the criminal underworld was holding its breath. The Moretti family had fortified their strongholds, locking down their illegal casinos, their weapons caches, and their primary extortion fronts. They were waiting for an army to arrive.
But Lorenzo Ravelli didn't send an army. He sent accountants.
In a sleek, minimalist conference room high above Wall Street, Lorenzo sat at the head of a glass table. He wore a crisp, tailored suit, looking every inch the legitimate, sophisticated businessman. Flanking him were his top financial advisors and hackers.
"The Moretti syndicate relies heavily on offshore routing to launder their extortion profits," the lead analyst reported, displaying a complex web of transactions on the massive monitor. "Because they absorbed the Mercer debt, their liquidity is currently overextended. They are highly vulnerable to a digital strike."
"Execute it," Lorenzo commanded softly, his voice a low, vibrating hum of absolute danger.
Within minutes, the coordinated cyber-assault began. The Ravelli hackers systematically breached the outdated, poorly encrypted servers of the Moretti shell companies. They didn't steal the money; they froze it. They triggered automated fraud alerts across dozens of international banks, effectively paralyzing the Moretti cash flow globally.
In the span of an hour, the oldest, most ruthless rival to the Ravelli empire was rendered entirely insolvent. They couldn't pay their mercenaries, they couldn't bribe their politicians, and they couldn't fund their operations.
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"The financial arteries are severed, Mr. Ravelli," the analyst confirmed, typing the final command.
Lorenzo stood up smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. "Send the evidence of their money laundering directly to the FBI task force. Let the federal government dismantle what is left of them."
