Chapter 19
The grand ballroom of the Grand Bellevue Hotel was entirely empty, a stark contrast to the vibrant, golden light and elite crowds of the charity gala two nights prior. The crystal chandeliers had been dimmed, casting long, menacing shadows across the polished white marble floor. The shattered remains of the ceramic vase Vivienne had crashed into had been meticulously cleaned away, leaving the room pristine and cold.
Dominic sat alone at the elevated VIP table near the front of the room. He wore a fresh, unbranded dark suit, his rugged jaw set in a permanent expression of absolute authority. Elias and six heavily armed men in tailored dark suits stood at the perimeter security posts, silent as statues.
The heavy service doors opened, and Carmine Rossi walked in. The Chicago underboss was a sleek, dangerous-looking man in a heavily tailored pinstripe suit, flanked by two massive bodyguards. He walked across the marble floor with forced confidence, hiding his deep unease at the sheer, terrifying presence of the legendary Dominic Valerio.
Carmine stopped a few paces from the VIP table, forcing a diplomatic smile. "Dominic. It has been a long time. The bosses in Chicago send their respects."
Dominic did not offer a seat. He did not smile. His cold, steady gaze bored into Carmine like a physical weight. "Your bosses sent sixty armed men across my borders, Carmine. That is a strange way to show respect."
Carmine cleared his throat, adjusting his tie. "A misunderstanding. A miscalculation by ambitious lower-tier captains. Marcus Thorne acted without authorization. We are prepared to offer you full reparations for the inconvenience. Ten million dollars, wired to your offshore trusts by morning. In exchange, we ask that you allow our third team to return to Chicago peacefully, and we establish a new, mutually beneficial trade agreement along the Pennsylvania corridor."
"You want me to sell you access to my supply lines for ten million dollars," Dominic said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "You want to buy the territory you failed to conquer with bullets."
"We want peace, Dominic," Carmine urged, stepping closer. "The world has changed in the ten years you’ve been gone. The feds are watching everything. If we go to a full-scale war, it destroys both of our organizations. Take the money. Let’s go back to business."
Dominic stood up slowly. The sheer size of him, the battle-hardened architecture of his frame, made Carmine instinctively take a step back.
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"You think I care about federal watchers?" Dominic asked quietly. "I own the judges. I own the politicians. I own the hotels they sleep in. You did not come here to negotiate a truce, Carmine. You came here to buy time for your third team to flank my estates."
Carmine’s face went pale. The diplomatic smile vanished entirely.
