Chapter 16 - The Gathering Storm
|
The grand hall of the Bedford estate was a masterpiece of old-world wealth, featuring high vaulted ceilings, massive crystal chandeliers, and a long mahogany table that could seat thirty men.
By six o'clock, the hall was packed. The inner circle of the Russo organization—the most powerful and dangerous capos in New York—had gathered, summoned by the rumor that their paralyzed king was officially stepping down.
Carlo stood near the fireplace, his face a mask of grim neutrality.
The heavy double doors at the end of the hall opened, and Silas walked in, flanked by Vivian. They moved with an arrogant, triumphant swagger, acting as if the crown already rested on their heads.
Silas took his place at the head of the table, resting his hands on the polished wood.
"Gentlemen," Silas began, his voice projecting across the quiet room. "You all know why we are here. My cousin, Damian, suffered a tragic accident. His body is broken, and unfortunately, his mind is following suit. The doctors have declared him unfit to lead."
A heavy murmur rippled through the capos. Some looked concerned; others looked calculating.
"In his absence, Damian has drafted documents passing the control of the organization to me, and the control of the estate to his devoted fiancée, Vivian," Silas lied smoothly, projecting absolute confidence. "We will transition power tonight to ensure the families remain stable and profitable."
"I haven't seen any documents, Silas," Carlo interrupted, stepping forward, his arms crossed over his massive chest.
"They are being finalized by the lawyers as we speak, Carlo," Vivian chimed in, smiling sweetly at the terrifying enforcer. "Damian wanted it this way. He wants peace."
"He wants peace?"
The voice did not come from Silas. It did not come from Carlo.
It came from the dark, arched entryway at the back of the grand hall.
May you like
The room fell dead silent. Every head turned.
Maya pushed a titanium wheelchair out of the shadows. Sitting in it, dressed in an impeccably tailored, dark three-piece suit, was Damian Russo. He looked pale, but his eyes burned with a lethal, demonic fire.
