His tone left no room for argument.

“My office. 1 hour.”

He ended the call.

The next hour gave Rocco time to prepare.

He called Tony to pull every file they had on Marcus Thompson. He called his accountant for records of any loans issued during the past 2 years. He asked his security chief to gather surveillance footage of Vincent’s recent activities.

Then he made one more call.

Detective Maria Santos.

One of the few honest cops left in the city.

“Rocco,” she answered. “This better be important.”

“It is. I need you to document something. Seven families in the Riverside neighborhood have been extorted by someone claiming to work for me.”

“You’re calling the police on your own operation?”

“This wasn’t my operation,” Rocco said. “This was someone stealing my name to hurt families with children. I need records showing they were victims.”

There was a long pause.

“Send me the addresses,” Maria said. “I’ll have social services check on them tomorrow.”

“Already arranged food, medical care, and repairs,” Rocco replied. “But they’ll need protection from retaliation.”

“Rocco… what exactly are you planning?”

“What I should have done the moment someone used my reputation to starve children.”

Vincent arrived exactly 1 hour later.

He carried a thin manila folder and wore the nervous smile of a man hoping he could talk his way out of trouble.

Rocco’s office occupied the entire top floor of the building. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the harbor.

Vincent had been there many times before, but tonight he hesitated at the doorway.

“Sit,” Rocco said without looking up.

Vincent sat and placed the folder on the desk.

“Boss, if this is about the Thompson thing, I can explain.”

“Please do.”

Vincent cleared his throat.

“The husband came to me 6 months ago desperate for money. Said his wife was pregnant and they needed cash for medical bills. I told him we don’t usually do personal loans, but he begged. Offered 20% interest.”

Rocco finally looked up.

“Show me the paperwork.”

Vincent slid the document across the desk.

Rocco studied it carefully.

The signature looked convincing. The terms appeared legitimate.

Except for one detail.

“Vincent,” Rocco said quietly. “What’s today’s date?”

“November 15.”

“And when did Marcus Thompson die?”

Vincent’s face went pale.

“August. August 23.”

“So he signed this loan agreement 2 months after he was already dead.”

Silence filled the office.

Vincent’s mouth opened, but no words came.

Rocco stood and walked slowly around the desk until he was behind Vincent’s chair.

“You forged a dead man’s signature to justify stealing from his widow and daughter.”

“Boss, I can explain—”

“You took furniture from a 7-year-old girl.”

Rocco placed a hand on Vincent’s shoulder.

“You left a grieving mother with no way to feed her child. You put bruises on that child’s arm.”

His voice remained calm, but the air in the room seemed to freeze.

“And you did it using my name.”

Vincent tried to turn around, but Rocco’s hand held him in place.

“How many other families?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How many other forged documents? How many other dead husbands who mysteriously borrowed money from us? How many other children are going hungry because you decided to build your own empire?”

Vincent’s breathing quickened.

“Boss, you have to understand. These people… they’re nobodies. They don’t matter to the real business. I was just making extra money.”

“Wrong answer.”

Rocco tightened his grip.

“That little girl tried to sell me her bike so she could feed her mother.”

Vincent shrugged weakly.

“Kids bounce back.”

“Even wronger answer.”

What happened next would echo through every level of Rocco’s organization.

A message about what happened to men who hurt children.

About what happened to men who used the Moretti name to prey on innocent families.

Because Rocco had discovered there were 6 other families.