Chapter 8 - The Gathering Storm
While my mother’s life faded inside the mansion, the world outside our gates was catching fire.
My long absence from the syndicate’s daily operations had been noticed. Marcus, my head of security, stepped into my study on a Tuesday morning, his face grim, holding a thick surveillance folder.
“We have a problem, Bennett,” Marcus said, slamming the folder onto my desk.
I didn't look up from my coffee. “What is it?”
“Dominic Moretti,” Marcus said, referring to the ambitious boss of the Philadelphia family. “He’s heard rumors that Eleanor is dying and that you’ve soft-hearted your operations. He’s moving trucks into our southern shipping corridors. He’s bought off two of our union reps in the docks.”
“Let him have the southern corridor,” I said calmly.
Marcus stared at me as if I had suddenly spoken in a foreign language. “Let him? Bennett, that corridor brings in four million a month! If we don't hit back hard today, the other families will see it as weakness. They’ll come for the whole estate!”
“My mother has forty-eight hours left, Marcus,” I snapped, my eyes flashing with a sudden, cold fury that made the seasoned killer take a step back. “If Dominic Moretti wants to steal trucks while my mother dies, let him. Once she is buried, I will deal with Moretti personally. Until then, no one disturbs this house.”
Marcus swallowed hard, his jaw working as he processed my order. “There’s more.”
“Speak.”
“Someone leaked a rumor to the Federal Task Force,” Marcus whispered, leaning over the desk. “They’re saying Arthur Vance’s black ledger has resurfaced. The FBI issued three federal grand jury subpoenas this morning targeting our shell accounts.”
I felt a cold drop of blood run through my veins.
I looked at the bottom drawer of my desk where the black book sat locked away. Clara hadn't leaked it—she had been under constant observation inside the house.
“Who leaked the rumor?” I demanded.
“We don't know,” Marcus said. “But if that book exists, Bennett... if someone hands it to the feds, it’s over. Every Hale capo, every lieutenant, including you, will spend the rest of their lives in maximum security.”
“The book is secure,” I said coldly. “Tell the capos to hold their positions. Double the perimeter guards around the estate. No one enters without my personal clearance.”
May you like
Marcus nodded slowly, though his eyes held a dark, lingering suspicion. He turned and walked out of the study.
I sat alone in the quiet room, realizing that the walls I had built were crumbling on every side. The feds were closing in. Rival families were circling like vultures. And inside the house, the only person holding my mother’s hand was the daughter of the man my family had murdered.
