The Capozzi Family: Luca #1

Luca crashes into the office first. The door slams wide, and the room beyond is all servers, cabling, and hard blue monitor glow. On the desk, a laptop still runs a deletion script against the Capozzi network.

Don surges in behind him, eyes locking on the screens. Vinny fans out to the left wall, guarding the door. Tommy moves straight to the desk, already reading the wipe. Toni and Nikki crowd the rear, scanning for the broker.

A side monitor flickers, then spits up a live camera feed from somewhere deeper in the warehouse. A hooded figure crosses the far aisle between shelving units, half-seen through rain-streaked glass.

Tommy snatches for the laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard to stop the wipe. Vinny starts for the door. Luca has the clearest line to the aisle, and the broker is finally within reach.

Luca vanishes out of the doorway and reappears in the aisle, rain-slick concrete underfoot and shelving towering on both sides. The hooded figure snaps to a stop at the far end of the lane, caught off guard by the sudden cut-off.

Across the room, Tommy keeps hammering at the laptop while the deletion bar crawls forward on the screen. One monitor hiccups with a rain-glitch, then steadies on the warehouse feed.

The hood slips back just enough to show a startled, ordinary face, not a masked thug. He raises both hands, backing toward a stack of pallets, but his thumb is still near a phone in his pocket.

From the warehouse mouth, a second shadow shifts behind stacked crates, and the office computer keeps chewing through the last of the broker's trail.

Luca drives the man back into the shelving and plants him there, forearm across his chest. The shelves rattle, a few loose boxes sliding hard against the concrete.

The laptop screen stutters, then freezes mid-progress as Tommy kills the script from the doorway. The room's glow shifts from urgent white to a darker, steadier blue.

At the loading bay, the second shadow breaks into a run, boots scraping over wet concrete toward the office side.

Pinned in place, the hooded man goes pale and jerks his chin toward the aisle behind him. His hand is still in his pocket, phone pressed under the fabric, but he cannot reach it now.