Chapter 9 - The Final Verdict
Don Carmine picked up the micro-card, handing it to his private tech assistant standing behind his chair. The assistant plugged it into a tablet and handed the screen to the old Don.
For five agonizing minutes, the only sound in the grand dining hall was the crackle of the fireplace and the heavy breathing of the men around the table.
Don Carmine scrolled through the financial ledgers, listening through an earpiece to recorded phone calls between Julian and the leaders of the Detroit Moretti family.
"Julian," Don Carmine said, his voice dropping into a raspy whisper of pure disgust. "You sold our northern shipping rights to Detroit? You took fifty million dollars in offshore kickbacks to undermine your own brother?"
"Carmine... wait! That's fake! It’s altered!" Julian panicked, his voice high-pitched as he backed away from the table. "Vincent fabricated those files! He wants to eliminate me so he can take total control!"
"The voice recordings contain your encrypted security passkeys, Julian," Don Salvatore added coldly, his eyes filled with contempt. "And the financial transfers match the exact bank accounts you opened in the Cayman Islands three years ago."
Julian looked around the room wildly, realizing that every single boss at the table was looking at him with absolute hostility. His high-priced lawyers took a step away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
"And what about Marco Ruiz?" Vincent asked, his voice low and cold as steel. "Tell the Commission what you did to the man who carved this toy."
Don Carmine looked down at the tablet screen, reading a transcribed text log from two years ago. "Julian ordered the warehouse locked from the outside before the fire was set. He murdered Marco Ruiz to cover up his treason."
Alina choked back a sob, tears running down her cheeks as the truth of her husband's death was finally laid bare in front of the highest authority in the city. Mia squeezed her mother's hand tightly, sensing the heavy emotions in the room.
Don Carmine stood up, leaning heavily on his cane. He looked at Vincent, then at the rest of the Commission members.
"By the laws of the Chicago Syndicate," Don Carmine announced solemnly, "Julian Marchetti is stripped of his title, his rank, and his name. He has committed treason against his blood and his family."
Don Carmine turned his gaze to Vincent. "Vincent Marchetti. As head of this house, the judgment belongs to you."
Vincent picked up his black wide-brimmed hat, placing it back on his head. He looked down at his younger brother, who was now trembling violently against the mahogany wall.
May you like
"Dominic," Vincent commanded softly. "Take him down to the lower holding cells. The Detroit bosses will be dealt with by morning. As for Julian... he will face a full trial under family law."
Two heavy security guards grabbed Julian by his arms, dragging him kicking and screaming out of the grand hall. His desperate cries echoed down the marble corridors until the heavy doors slammed shut, restoring absolute silence to the room.
