Chapter 14 - The Syndicate Summit
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The Syndicate Commission was a shadow organization comprising the heads of the five major crime families in the Midwest. They governed disputes, managed territories, and, occasionally, removed bosses who were deemed liabilities.
"They're using the shootout at the penthouse and the death of Falcone as an excuse to challenge me," Dominic explained as they drove toward the city. "They think I'm distracted. They think I'm weak because I elevated you instead of marrying for political power."
"They're using me against you," Clara said, guilt twisting in her stomach.
"They're trying," Dominic corrected. "But they don't know who they're dealing with. I will attend the summit alone and put them in their place."
"No," Clara said firmly.
Dominic looked at her, surprised. "Clara, this is a meeting of monsters. You are not going."
"I am the reason they called the summit," Clara argued, her eyes fierce. "If you show up without me, it proves I am a weakness you have to hide. If I go with you, it proves I am your Queen, and I am not afraid of them."
Dominic stared at her, warring between his instinct to protect her and his immense pride in her courage.
"It will be dangerous," he warned.
"I survived a hit squad and broke your ex-fiancée," Clara said smoothly. "I can handle a room full of old men smoking cigars."
Dominic let out a low chuckle, a sound of pure adoration. "Alright. We go together."
The summit was held in the subterranean vault of an old, decommissioned bank in downtown Chicago. The room was oppressive, smelling of damp stone and stale smoke.
Five men sat around a massive circular table. They looked up, their expressions hostile, as Dominic entered.
And they fell completely silent when Clara walked in right beside him, wearing a sharp, tailored crimson suit that screamed power.
"Dominic," the head of the Commission, an ancient, scarred man named Morretti, sneered. "We did not invite wives to this meeting."
"My wife goes where I go, Morretti," Dominic said, pulling out a chair for Clara before taking his own seat. "And since you are questioning my leadership because of her, it is only fair she is here to hear your pathetic arguments."
The tension in the vault spiked. Weapons were not allowed, but the air was thick with lethal intent.
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"Your actions have brought chaos to the city, Russo," Morretti stated, slamming a hand on the table. "You executed a capo. You married a civilian. You are unstable. The Commission is voting to strip you of your southern territories."
Clara leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
