Chapter 19 - The Commission's Demand
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“I am on every guest list, Wade, whether I am invited or not,” Arthur Vance smiled, a cold, predatory expression that didn't reach his eyes. He walked slowly to the edge of the terrace, looking out over the dark water of the lake.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wade asked, dropping the polite facade completely.
“You’ve made quite a splash over the last six months,” Arthur noted, tapping his cane gently against the stone. “Annihilating the Sokolov Bratva. Executing your own lieutenant. And now, transitioning your massive, highly profitable illegal shipping operations into legitimate, taxable corporations.”
“I’m retiring from the old ways, Arthur. My family requires stability.”
“The Commission does not care about your family, Wade,” Arthur said, turning his piercing blue eyes toward the younger boss. “The Commission cares about order. And revenue. By legitimizing your ports, you have cut off a major smuggling artery that the eastern families relied upon.”
Wade’s jaw tightened. “They can find new routes. My ports are closed to illicit cargo.”
“That is not acceptable,” Arthur stated simply, his voice devoid of anger, which made it infinitely more terrifying. “You do not get to unilaterally shut down a pipeline that funds our operations simply because you grew a conscience after having a child.”
“I am the head of the Mercer syndicate,” Wade growled, stepping closer to the older man, entirely unafraid. “I run my city how I see fit.”
“You run your city because we allow it,” Arthur corrected smoothly. “We looked the other way when you slaughtered Roman because he was becoming a nuisance. But this? This is a disruption of global commerce.”
Arthur reached into the pocket of his tailored jacket and pulled out a small, heavy, wax-sealed envelope. He held it out to Wade.
“The Commission has ruled, Wade. You have thirty days to reopen the South Side ports to our off-the-books shipments, and you will remit a twenty percent penalty fee for the inconvenience you’ve caused.”
Wade didn't take the envelope. He stared at it, a dark, murderous fire igniting in his chest.
“And if I refuse?” Wade asked quietly.
Arthur smiled, slipping the envelope into Wade’s breast pocket.
May you like
“If you refuse, Wade, the Commission will not send a disorganized Russian gang to your hospital,” Arthur whispered, stepping close enough that Wade could smell the mint on his breath. “We will send a shadow army that will burn this beautiful estate to ash while you and your lovely wife sleep. Enjoy the gala.”
Arthur turned and walked back into the ballroom, disappearing into the crowd of wealthy socialites as if he were just a phantom.
