Chapter 13 - The Queen of the Docks
The heavy oak doors of the grand conference room slid open to reveal representatives from every major criminal syndicate and shipping cartel in the tristate area.
They had demanded an emergency summit, assuming they could bully a newly uncovered heir into relinquishing control of the lucrative port terminals.
Claire walked into the room flanked by Nico and two armed security guards, her posture immaculate, her emerald dress catching the overhead light like polished armor.
She didn’t take a seat at the side; she walked straight to the head of the table where Anthony usually sat, pulling out the main chair and sitting down with absolute composure.
Koji Kurozawa, the aging patriarch of the Japanese syndicate, scoffed loudly, leaning back in his leather chair with a dismissive smirk.
“We came to speak with Anthony Moretti, not a little girl playing dress-up in her grandfather’s clothes,” Koji sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.
The murmurs of agreement rippled through the surrounding syndicate bosses.
Claire did not flinch, nor did she raise her voice; instead, she folded her hands neatly on the table and let the heavy silence stretch until the room became uncomfortably quiet.
“You are welcome to leave through those doors right now, Koji,” Claire said, her voice smooth, cold, and entirely devoid of fear.
“And by tomorrow morning, every single container ship bearing your syndicate's flag will be impounded at international customs for federal drug trafficking.”
Koji’s smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden flash of genuine alarm.
“You don't have the federal clearance to pull that off,” Koji barked, slamming his palm against the polished wood.
Nico stepped forward, dropping a thick manila folder directly onto the table in front of the Kurozawa boss.
“She doesn't need federal clearance when she owns the customs commissioner, the port authority, and the shipping manifests,” Nico stated coldly.
Koji’s trembling fingers flipped open the folder, revealing certified asset seizures and wire transfers linking his syndicate directly to illegal arms smuggling.
The color drained from Koji’s face as he realized he had walked directly into a well-laid trap.
“Your terminals belong to Moretti Logistics now, Koji,” Claire said, leaning forward with a predatory smile.
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“Sign the transfer papers, or spend the rest of your life rotting in a maximum-security federal penitentiary.”
The room remained dead silent as Koji Kurozawa picked up a gold-plated pen and slowly signed his empire away.
