Chapter 6 - The Poisoned Champagne

The grand study fell into a heavy, quiet stillness, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the howling blizzard outside the tall windows.
Frank walked into the room, holding an encrypted satellite tablet. "Boss, we just intercepted a high-frequency transmission originating from the Swiss consulate downtown. Lord Sterling—the chief representative of the European syndicate board—has just arrived in Manhattan."
Dominic took the tablet, his dark eyes scanning the incoming data.
"Sterling isn't coming to validate my trust, Frank," Dominic realized, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "He's coming to execute a forced takeover."
Vivienne smirked, leaning against the mahogany desk. "Sterling paid my legal team five million dollars to present the birth registry tonight. By midnight, Chicago and European forces absorb sixty percent of the Ravelli shipping lines."
Dominic didn't panic. He looked at his eighty-year-old mother, who sat quietly on the sofa, her posture still dignified despite her physical frailty.
"Mother," Dominic said softly. "Did Carmine leave a secondary codicil in the floor safe?"
Agatha looked up, her sharp mind working with sudden clarity. "In the floor safe beneath the chapel altar, Dominic. But it requires the matriarch’s private seal to open."
Agatha reached up to her neck, unclasping a heavy gold pendant engraved with the original Ravelli family crest. She handed it to Dominic.
"Take this, my son," Agatha whispered, her voice filled with absolute faith. "Carmine knew this day would come. He prepared for Vivienne's return thirty years ago."
Vivienne’s cold smile faltered slightly as she looked at the gold pendant in Dominic’s hand. "What codicil?!"
Dominic didn't answer her. He turned to Frank. "Lock Vivienne in the master suite under heavy guard. Assemble the vanguard. We drive to the Swiss consulate in Manhattan now."
"Boss, the storm is worsening," Frank warned. "The mountain highway is covered in ice."
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Dominic adjusted his black tuxedo jacket, his gold cufflinks glinting under the chandelier light, his posture returning to that of an invincible, unyielding warlord.
"We take the armored convoy," Dominic commanded flatly. "Nobody steals this family's crown."