Chapter 6 - The Arrival of the Corrupt Commissioner
The sound of screaming sirens echoed through the dense Long Island pine forest as four black Port Authority command vehicles tore down the private driveway.
The vehicles breached the outer gate perimeter, skidding to a halt outside the grand portico of the manor with flashing red and blue emergency strobes.
Stepping out of the lead vehicle was Lorenzo Moretti—Celeste’s thirty-five-year-old elder brother and the powerful Deputy Commissioner of the Port Authority.
Lorenzo wore a tailored charcoal overcoat over his official uniform, flanked by six armed tactical port officers with holstered sidearms.
He kicked open the heavy bronze doors of the ballroom, marching down the center aisle with arrogant, unshakeable confidence.
“Dante, stand down your security forces right now!” Lorenzo roared, waving a certified judicial injunction stamped by a corrupt state supreme court judge.
“I have an emergency writ of habeas corpus and an immediate federal warrant for the release of Celeste Moretti and every guest in this room!”
The seventy high-society guests let out sighs of immense relief, believing that the powerful commissioner had arrived to rescue them from Dante’s wrath.
Dante did not even turn around; he remained standing near the fireplace, slowly pouring a glass of vintage sparkling water.
“You’re thirty minutes late, Lorenzo,” Dante said quietly, taking a sip from the crystal tumbler.
“I expected you to arrive before the surveillance feeds finished broadcasting your sister’s confession.”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed into dangerous, predatory slits as he walked up to the podium, slamming the judicial order onto the wood.
“I don't care about a domestic dispute with a housekeeper, Dante!” Lorenzo hissed, leaning over the stage.
“You are holding seventy of the most influential political donors in this country against their will!”
“If you do not open those gates in sixty seconds, I will declare this estate an active terrorist site and authorize an armed tactical assault by the State Police!”
From the top of the grand ballroom staircase, a soft, small voice broke through the tense silence.
“Uncle Dante… the loud man is yelling at you.”
Every head in the room turned upward to look at the grand balcony.
Standing at the top of the stairs, holding hands with Doctor Harrison, was little Maya, dressed in her clean pink fleece robe, clutching her father’s silver locket.
Beside her stood Elena Vance, wearing an elegant navy silk wrap, her posture straight, her chin held high, radiating the untouchable dignity of a sovereign queen.
Lorenzo looked up at the woman and child, and for the first time in his life, the arrogant commissioner’s face drained of every ounce of color.
“Elena…?” Lorenzo choked out, his hands trembling as he stared at the little girl who possessed Marcus Vance’s unmistakable hazel eyes.
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“You told me she was buried in an unmarked grave in Boston three years ago, Lorenzo,” Dante whispered, stepping directly in front of the trembling commissioner.
“Now tell me why the man who was supposed to be Marcus’s friend spent three years hunting his four-year-old daughter like an animal.”
