Chapter 6 - The Ruse

By Saturday morning, the news of the Duca family split had hit the financial districts of the city.
The official press release from the Duca logistics division was simple: Filippo Duca has resigned from his position as vice president of operations due to an ongoing internal audit. The company’s shipping lanes remain fully operational under the direct supervision of Don Alessandro Duca.
But behind the scenes, the war was far from over.
The New York families, realizing their shipping routes had been compromised, had sent their chief enforcer—a cold, calculating man named Enzo "The Barber" Lucchese—to Chicago to settle the accounts.
Alessandro sat in his private study, the fire crackling in the hearth, casting warm, orange shadows over the dark mahogany walls. On his desk lay his laptop, showing the active security feeds from thesafehouse in Pilsen.
Sophia and Emma were safe. Dr. Hale had reported that Emma's vitals were perfect, and she was currently sitting on the floor of the flat, building a massive tower out of wooden blocks with her gray rabbit sitting beside her.
"Don Alessandro," Franco said, stepping into the room. "Enzo is at the Drake Hotel. He’s requested a meeting at three o'clock to discuss the 'discrepancies' in the Cicero warehouse."
"Enzo thinks I am weak because I didn't kill Filippo on the spot," Alessandro said, his eyes never leaving the screen where Emma was playing. "He thinks because I handed my cousin over to the state attorney, I’m trying to play by the rules."
"He’s bringing four of his personal enforcers," Franco warned. "They’re professionals, Alessandro. They aren't local street soldiers."
"I don't care who they are, Franco," Alessandro said, closing his laptop with a firm, satisfying click. "They brought poison into my house. They targeted a child’s mother. In my world, that is a declaration of total war. We meet them at the docks."
May you like
"The Cicero warehouse?"
"No," Alessandro said, standing up and pulling his coat from the hanger. "The old grain terminal. The one where we used to store the spirits during the strike. It has no cameras, no windows, and no escape."