Chapter 14 - The Syndicate's Gaze
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The miracle in the kitchen brought a brief moment of peace to the Valenti estate, but the criminal underworld does not respect peace.
Word of Vincenzo’s execution had spread through the Chicago Syndicate like wildfire. While treason justified the kill, the older, traditional mafia bosses viewed Dominic’s actions as erratic. The fact that a notoriously ruthless boss was suddenly playing house with a former waitress made the old guard nervous.
A mandatory meeting of the Commission was called.
“They want to test you,” Marcus warned Dominic as they drove to the underground location in the financial district. “They think you’re distracted. They want to see if the wolf still has teeth.”
Dominic adjusted his tie, his face an emotionless mask. “Let them test me.”
The meeting room was dark, filled with cigar smoke and the most dangerous men in the Midwest. Don Rossi, the oldest and most traditional of the bosses, sat at the head of the table.
“Dominic,” Rossi greeted smoothly as Valenti took his seat. “We are sorry for the trouble in your house. Vincenzo was a fool.”
“He was a traitor, Rossi,” Dominic corrected coldly. “And he was dealt with.”
“Indeed,” Rossi leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “However, Vincenzo’s concerns were not entirely unfounded. You have brought a civilian into the inner circle. A woman with no bloodline, no pedigree. It projects weakness, Dominic. It makes the families look vulnerable.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, waiting for the inevitable ultimatum.
“The Commission has a proposal,” Rossi continued. “To stabilize the alliance, we suggest you marry my niece, Isabella. She is pure blood. She understands our world. Do this, and the syndicate remains united.”
It was a blatant power grab. Rossi wanted a spy in the Valenti house, a way to slowly absorb Dominic’s empire.
Dominic stood up slowly, buttoning his suit jacket.
“I don’t take orders on how to run my family, Rossi. And I certainly don't take marriage proposals from men who sell their nieces for shipping routes.”
Rossi’s face turned purple. “You refuse the Commission? This is an insult, Valenti! You would risk a war over a waitress?”
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Dominic leaned over the table, his gray eyes flashing with lethal intent.
“She is not a waitress,” Dominic whispered, his voice dripping with venom. “She is the woman who saved my heir. And if any of you ever speak of her with disrespect again, I won't just refuse your proposals. I will end your bloodlines.”
