Chapter 13 - Tearing Up the Ultimatum: Luca’s Counter-Strike
The cream-colored envelope sat on the glass coffee table like a ticking time bomb.
For three long seconds, the penthouse was entirely silent, save for the distant hum of morning traffic far below on the street.
Julian stood near the center of the living room, his arms crossed over his chest, wearing the smug, self-satisfied grin of a man who believed he had just played a winning hand.
Luca didn't raise his voice.
He didn't rush across the room to tackle his cousin, though the dark, volcanic fury burning in his eyes suggested he was restraining himself by a single thread of willpower.
Instead, Luca walked slowly, deliberately, across the hardwood floor until he stopped right in front of the coffee table.
He looked down at the heavy wax seal bearing the Moretti family crest.
Then, without breaking eye contact with Julian, Luca reached down, picked up the envelope, and tore it cleanly in half right down the middle.
He ripped it again.
And again.
Until the cream-colored paper and the official seal were reduced to a handful of worthless confetti, which he casually dropped onto the floor at Julian’s feet.
Julian’s smirk vanished instantly.
“You… you arrogant bastard!” Julian sputtered, taking a step forward.
“That was a direct order from the patriarch!”
“Tell my grandfather,” Luca said, his voice dropping into that chilling, glacial register that made the air in the room freeze, “that his era is officially over.”
Luca took another slow step toward his cousin, towering over him by several inches.
“You think a forensic audit is going to scare me, Julian? You think I didn't spend the last three years anticipating every dirty trick my uncles and the board of directors would try to pull?”
Luca pulled a slim black tablet from the pocket of his sweater, tapping the screen once before holding it out toward Julian’s chest.
“Read it,” Luca commanded quietly.
Julian hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out and took the tablet.
His eyes scanned the digital document displayed on the screen—a legal filing stamped by the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York, dated less than an hour ago.
The color drained entirely from Julian’s face.
His breath hitched, his eyes darting frantically across the lines of text.
“This… this is impossible,” Julian whispered, his voice cracking.
“Federal RICO indictments? Embezzlement charges? Unregistered offshore accounts?”
“Oh, it’s entirely possible, cousin,” Luca replied, his voice dripping with lethal satisfaction.
“For the past six months, my legal team hasn't just been defending against your corporate pressure—we’ve been quietly handing federal prosecutors every single financial record, tax evasion scheme, and illicit cash-flow arrangement managed by Marco, your father, and the board of directors.”
Julian staggered backward, colliding slightly with one of his own security guards.
“You… you informed the Feds on your own family?” Julian gasped, horror dawning in his eyes.
“They stopped being my family the moment they decided to treat human lives like collateral damage,” Luca stated flatly.
“The federal warrants are already signed, Julian. Federal marshals are executing simultaneous raids on Marco’s Westchester estate and the corporate compliance offices as we speak. By noon today, half the board will be sitting in holding cells.”
Julian dropped the tablet onto the floor, the screen shattering against the hardwood, before turning in a blind panic and sprinting toward the private elevator.
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“Get out! Get out of here!” Julian screamed at his guards as they scrambled to follow him into the elevator, punching the lobby button frantically until the doors slammed shut, sealing them away.
The penthouse fell dead silent once more.
