Chapter 13 - the midnight council
At 11:50 PM, the grand boardroom of the High Council on the top floor of the Chrysler Building was filled with tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
Seven council elders sat around an oval mahogany table beneath towering marble pillars. At the head of the table sat the empty gold-embossed throne of the Bellacorte Don.
Acting Chairman Dominic Rossi sat two seats down, his jaw bandaged, his face bruised purple, frantically tapping his pen against a stack of legal probate documents.
"It is ten minutes to midnight!" Rossi declared loudly to the assembly. "Victor Bellacorte has failed to present himself with legal challenge! Under Article Nine of the Syndicate Charter, the Bellacorte assets are forfeited to council trusteeship!"
"Article Nine is void," a deep, thunderous voice rang out from the entrance.
The heavy double mahogany doors flew open.
Victor Bellacorte strode down the center aisle, broad-shouldered, imposing, and dressed in a tailored charcoal three-piece suit. Beside him walked Julian Vance and Marcus Moreau, their heads held high.
And holding Victor’s right hand was Sophia, walking calmly beside her father without a trace of fear.
Every council member gasped, several standing up in disbelief.
"Victor!" one elder shouted. "What is the meaning of this child?"
Victor stopped at the head of the table. He picked up Rossi’s probate documents, looked at them for half a second, and tore them in half, letting the scraps fall onto Rossi’s lap.
"This is Sophia Bellacorte," Victor announced, his voice echoing off the marble ceiling like rolling thunder. "Sole legitimate heir to the Bellacorte bloodline. Born of Elena Bellacorte. Verified by church registry and council DNA seal."
Rossi surged to his feet, knocking his chair back. "This is a fabrication! An orphan pulled off the street to steal council funds! Guard—"
Marcus Moreau stepped forward, slamming an encrypted flash drive onto the mahogany table.
"On this drive is Rossi’s private financial ledger," Marcus roared, his voice shaking with righteous fury. "Documenting seven years of wire transfers funding the harbor bombing that tried to slaughter this family! Signed with his personal biometric key!"
The boardroom erupted into chaos. Two council elders immediately backed away from Rossi as if he were carrying the plague.
Rossi looked around in frantic desperation, but no one moved to protect him. His own personal security guards stood outside the doors, disarmed and detained by Carlo’s men.
Victor leaned across the table, his dark eyes burning into Rossi’s trembling face.
"You took seven years of my life, Dominic," Victor said, his tone chillingly soft. "You thought you buried my bloodline."
Victor took the seat at the head of the table, resting his arms on the carved armrests of the Don’s throne.
"Take him to the harbor cells," Victor ordered. "Let him see how cold the water really is."
May you like
Two massive Bellacorte enforcers dragged Rossi out of the room, his muffled screams fading down the corridor.
***
