Chapter 18 - The Father's Sins
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The main dining room of the Blackwood Estate looked exactly as it had six months ago.
The elder Blackwood sat at the head of the mahogany table, sipping espresso, reading a financial report. He looked up, unsurprised, as Damian entered the room, flanked by Marco and a dozen heavily armed loyalists.
“I hear Silas is dead,” the old man said calmly, taking a sip of his coffee.
“He had a fatal accident involving his own treason,” Damian replied, stepping up to the table.
His father sighed, setting the cup down. “He was always too ambitious and too sloppy. But you, Damian... you are risking the entire syndicate over a school teacher. I told you to erase her.”
“And I told you she was a mistake to appease you,” Damian snarled, slamming his hands onto the table, leaning inches from his father’s face. “But she is carrying my heirs. Fraternal twins. And she is going to be my wife.”
The elder Blackwood’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he quickly masked it.
“Illegitimate half-bloods,” his father sneered. “The families will never accept them.”
“The families will accept whatever I tell them to accept,” Damian roared. He pulled his gun and slammed it onto the table between them. “Because as of this exact second, you are stepping down. You are retiring to the villa in Sicily, and you will never set foot in this city again.”
His father glared at him. “You think you can just usurp me?”
“I just did,” Damian stated. “Every capo in the city has already sworn loyalty to me. My men control the ports, the banks, and the streets. Your era is over, old man.”
May you like
The elder Blackwood looked around the room. Marco and the guards had their weapons casually rested, but their loyalty was clear. The king was dead. Long live the king.
“Take him to the jet,” Damian ordered Marco. “Make sure he doesn't pack anything sharp.”
