Chapter 15 - Blood and Ballistics
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By nightfall, the city of Chicago was bleeding.
The moment the Romano and Falcone families received the undeniable proof of Rossi’s massive theft, the alliance shattered. The Commission didn't march on Enzo Marchetti; they turned their guns on each other.
Car bombs detonated in the financial district. Safe houses were raided. The old guard of the Chicago mafia was burning to the ground in a civil war of epic proportions.
Enzo didn't hide in his penthouse. He led his men into the chaos, systematically picking off the weakened survivors of the infighting. He was a phantom of vengeance, securing the docks, seizing the weapon caches, and establishing absolute dominance while his enemies slaughtered one another.
Back at the estate, heavily guarded by fifty of Enzo’s most loyal enforcers, Adeline watched the news reports of the chaos. The media called it a gangland massacre. She knew it was a masterstroke of strategy.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the penthouse study burst open.
Isabella Rossi stood there, looking like a deranged ghost. Her diamond necklace was gone, her designer dress was torn, and she was clutching a heavy, silver-plated revolver. Two of Enzo’s guards lay bleeding in the hallway behind her—she had bribed an insider to get the access codes.
"You!" Isabella screamed, aiming the shaking gun directly at Adeline’s chest.
Adeline didn't flinch. She didn't cower like the maid she used to be. She stood up slowly, her chin raised.
"Your father is dead, Isabella," Adeline said calmly. "The Romanos killed him an hour ago. You have nothing left."
"I have this!" Isabella shrieked, cocking the hammer. "You ruined my life! You stole my throne! You are a peasant who cleans floors!"
"She is the Queen of Chicago."
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The cold, deadly voice echoed from the private elevator.
Isabella whipped around, but she wasn't fast enough. A single gunshot rang out, shattering the heavy silence of the room.
