THE BLIND SOVEREIGN: King of The Underworld

CHAPTER 8: The Architect Behind the Curtain

Moretti Tower in the heart of Milan rose like a monument to greed, forged from glass and black steel. On the top floor, the city’s lights reflected off polished marble floors until they resembled a flawless mirror. Elena Rossi stood before the gold-plated elevator, smoothing the black silk dress that clung perfectly to her body. She could feel the weight of the small pistol strapped to her thigh and the transponder device concealed inside her compact handbag.

“Breathe more evenly, Elena. Your heart rate is at one hundred ten beats per minute. That is too fast for a woman who has come here to surrender.”

Dante’s voice sounded crystal clear through the micro earpiece embedded deep in Elena’s ear canal. In Tuscany, hundreds of kilometers away, Dante sat before a monitor showing nothing but darkness, yet his ears were linked to the audio feed from the transmitter Elena carried.

“You can hear that from there?” Elena whispered as she stepped forward when the elevator doors slid open.

“I can hear the friction of your heart valves through the sensitive microphone you are wearing. Calm yourself. You are a Rossi. Show your arrogance, not your fear.”

“That is easy for you to say. You are not surrounded by men carrying assault rifles,” Elena murmured, her eyes flicking toward the two massive guards stationed outside Lorenzo’s private office.

“I am surrounded by death every second, Elena. Focus on your task. Once you enter, place your bag on the coffee table on the left side of the room. That is a blind spot in their vibration sensors.”

Elena took a deep breath, straightened her back, and walked past the guards. “I am here to see Lorenzo Moretti. He is expecting me.”

One of the guards scanned Elena’s bag with a handheld device. A short beep sounded. “You may enter, Mrs. Moretti.”

The three-meter-high teak doors opened automatically. Inside, Lorenzo stood before a massive glass wall, gazing out at the glittering sprawl of Milan with a glass of cognac in his hand. The room smelled of expensive cigars and suffocating ambition.

“Elena,” Lorenzo turned, a crooked smile spreading across his handsome yet weary face. “I did not expect you to come this soon. How is your unfortunate husband? Has he started talking to the walls yet?”

Elena stepped inside, deliberately placing her handbag on the marble coffee table exactly as Dante had instructed. “Dante is busy adjusting to his darkness, Lorenzo. And I am here because I do not want to rot with him in that old villa.”

“Oh? Such a sweet betrayal,” Lorenzo said as he approached, his predatory gaze fixed on her. “Sit down. Tell me, what made the proud daughter of the Rossi family change her mind?”

“Reality,” Elena replied sharply. She sat on the velvet sofa, crossing her legs with practiced elegance. “Dante is finished. He is nothing but the remains of the man I once knew. I want a deal. Give me back part of my father’s assets that you seized, and I will make sure Dante stays in Tuscany until he dies. I will be his most loyal jailer.”

In Tuscany, Dante listened intently, his fingers tracing the surface of his wooden table. “He is walking toward his desk, Elena. I can hear the friction of his shoes against the Persian carpet. He is doubting you.”

“You think I am that stupid, Elena?” Lorenzo laughed, his voice echoing through the vast room. “You hate me. You blame me for your father’s death. And suddenly you come asking for compromise?”

“I hate poverty more than I hate you, Lorenzo,” Elena leaned forward, her eyes blazing with anger that was carefully crafted yet felt entirely real. “Dante can no longer give me anything. He cannot even see my face. Why should I remain loyal to a living corpse?”

Lorenzo studied her for a long moment, searching for cracks in her expression. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

“Elena, he has changed position. He is standing near his desk now,” Dante’s voice returned. “This is the moment. Activate the transponder when he pours another drink.”

The faint sound of liquid being poured into a glass came through the audio feed. Elena seized the moment. With a subtle, practiced motion, she reached beneath the coffee table where her bag rested and attached the small magnetic device to the hidden metal frame.

Done, she whispered silently to herself.

“What was that?” Lorenzo asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “I heard a click.”

Elena’s heart nearly stopped. “Just my bag’s clasp. I do not like it open in front of a man like you.”

Lorenzo walked toward the coffee table, stopping only inches from where the device was hidden. “You are very bold, Elena. But you should know, I do not give anything for free.”

“What do you want?”

Lorenzo bent down, his face dangerously close to hers. “I want you to prove your loyalty. I am holding a meeting with the Board of Directors the day after tomorrow. I want you standing beside me, officially declaring that Dante is mentally and physically incompetent. Do that, and I will return the Rossi assets to you.”

“Elena, do not agree immediately,” Dante instructed. “Hesitate. Make him feel like he is the one in control.”

Elena turned her face away, pretending to consider carefully. “That would destroy my reputation among the other mafia families. I would look like a cheap woman selling out her own husband.”

“You are a practical woman, Elena. Do not pretend you have a strong sense of honor now,” Lorenzo sneered as he straightened. “Think about it. You have twenty-four hours.”

“I need a guarantee that you will not kill me after I make that statement,” Elena said as she stood and picked up her bag.

“My guarantee is my word. Now leave. I have far more important matters than dealing with the widow of a man who is still breathing.”

Elena walked toward the door with steady steps. The moment she entered the elevator and the doors closed, she released the breath she had been holding. Her body trembled.

“Well done, Elena,” Dante’s voice sounded softer now. “The device is active. I can already access Moretti Tower’s internal network through a backdoor Marcus prepared.”

“I almost had a heart attack in there, Dante,” Elena whispered angrily. “He suspected that click.”

“But he did not find it. That is what matters. Now go to the extraction point. Marcus is waiting for you in basement parking zone B.”

An hour later, Dante sat in the dark room of the Tuscany villa. Before him was not a monitor, but a tactile board he had built himself, studded with small pins representing the structure of Moretti Holdings.

Marcus entered the room with a laptop emitting constant beeps. “Sir, the transmission is stable. We are inside Lorenzo’s office audio system. I also managed to tap his private phone line.”

“Play the audio, Marcus. I want to hear what my brother does after the beautiful woman leaves him,” Dante ordered.

Static crackled briefly before Lorenzo’s voice came through the speakers.

“…Yes, Vargo. I know Ghost failed. I do not need another failure report. Send two additional teams to that villa tonight. I do not care whether Dante is blind or not, I want him to stop breathing before the Board meeting. And the woman, Elena… watch her. If she meets anyone other than her servants, eliminate her on the spot.”

Dante listened to his own execution order with a perfectly calm expression, as if he were hearing a weather report.

“He is panicking,” Dante murmured. “He is resorting to brute force because he can no longer use his brain. That is the beginning of his downfall.”

“Sir, two additional teams mean around ten fully armed men. This villa will not survive a frontal assault,” Marcus warned, his face tense.

“We will not be here when they arrive, Marcus,” Dante said as he stood, his fingers brushing the pin that represented Lorenzo on the board. “How long do you need to move the funds from the shadow accounts we just discovered through that transponder?”

“About four hours to break through their layered encryption, sir. But once the funds move, Lorenzo will know.”

“Let him know. I want him to watch his money evaporate at the exact moment he feels most powerful. Elena,” Dante called.

Elena stepped into the room, her face still pale but her eyes filled with new resolve. “Yes?”

“Tomorrow you will return to Milan. But not to see Lorenzo. You will meet the Triad boss, Chen Wu. Give him the audio recording of Lorenzo insulting them during last week’s secret meeting. The recording we just obtained from the device you planted.”

Elena froze. “You want me to turn them against each other?”

“I want Lorenzo surrounded from every direction. The Triads will pull their logistical support, and at the same time I will destroy his financial reputation before the board. He will become a rat trapped inside his own tower.”

“And you? What will you do?” Elena asked.

Dante picked up his sunglasses and put them on with elegant precision. “I am going back to where it all began. Milan. It is time for the Oracle to show his face to the underworld.”

“But you are blind, Dante. How can you move through Milan without drawing attention?”

Dante smiled, a cold smile that sent a chill down Elena’s spine. “A blind man walking through a crowded city will never be suspected of being a killer or a cyber tactician. I will be a ghost in broad daylight. Marcus, prepare the car and our false identities. We leave in one hour.”

“What about the execution teams Lorenzo sent here?” Marcus asked.

“Let them storm an empty villa. Give them a small gift in the form of a gas leak and a heat trigger in the kitchen. If they want to meet ‘The Ghost,’ let them become his new friends in hell.”

Dante walked toward the door, his black carbon cane tapping the floor in a steady rhythm. Each tap sounded like a death knell for anyone standing in his path.

“Elena,” Dante called just before he left.

“Yes?”

“Never doubt yourself again. Tonight you proved that you are the sharpest eyes I have ever had. Stay with me, and we will watch Milan burn together.”

Elena stared at her husband’s retreating back. She realized this revenge was no longer only about her father. It was about following a man who had crossed beyond the limits of humanity. A man who, even without eyes, could see his enemies’ destruction with terrifying precision.

“I am with you, Dante,” Elena whispered.

The Oracle’s grand design had entered its second phase. This shadow war had shifted from the quiet hills of Tuscany to the dark corridors and towering skyscrapers of Milan. And Lorenzo Moretti, in his arrogance, had no idea that every word he spoke was tightening a noose slowly closing around his own neck.