Chapter 12 - The Confession in the Safehouse
The subterranean safehouse beneath the Gold Coast district was soundproofed, damp, and smelled faintly of old iron and gun powder.
Frankie Marcone was shoved roughly into a metal folding chair, his expensive gold Rolex clattering uselessly against the concrete floor.
The overhead fluorescent light flickered erratically, casting long, jittery shadows across the bare walls of the interrogation room.
The heavy iron door swung open with a slow, agonizing squeak, and Lorenzo Bianchi stepped into the room like an angel of death.
He was not wearing his suit jacket; his white shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing the cold, collected demeanor of a man who held absolute power.
Lorenzo walked slowly around the trembling loan shark, his pale hazel eyes fixing Frankie with a look of supreme, bone-chilling contempt.
"Please... please, Mr. Bianchi, I didn't know she was under your protection," Frankie sobbed, slumping forward as he recognized the legendary syndicate boss.
"If I had known Sienna meant anything to you, I never would have booked a flight to this frozen hellscape."
"You didn't know because you are a shortsighted parasite who preys on people weaker than yourself," Lorenzo said quietly, his voice dangerously low.
"You thought you could walk into my city and use a fabricated debt to manipulate a woman who has already survived unimaginable hardship."
"I didn't mean any harm, I swear, just let me go back to Louisiana and I'll wipe her ledger clean forever!" Frankie cried out, thrashing against his bonds.
"Your ledger in New Orleans was permanently erased ten minutes ago, Marcone," Lorenzo replied, gesturing for Matthew to slide a burning folder across the desk.
"My regional captains have already seized your properties, frozen your accounts, and handed your illegal operations over to local authorities."
"You are a ghost in the criminal underworld now, Frankie, stripped of every single dollar and every ounce of leverage you ever possessed."
"Please, have mercy," Frankie wept, his arrogance completely shattered as he realized his entire life's work had evaporated into smoke.
"Mercy is a luxury reserved for those who respect innocent lives," Lorenzo stated flatly, turning his back on the whimpering loan shark.
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"Matthew, put him on a freight train heading west across the desert, and make sure he knows that if he ever sets foot east of the Mississippi again, he won't survive the trip."
Lorenzo walked out of the safehouse without looking back, leaving Frankie to be dragged screaming into the darkness by the silent enforcers.
