Chapter 10 - The Siege of the Plaza
The grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was bathed in gold light, but the atmosphere was choked with hostility. The heads of the major syndicates sat around a massive round table, surrounded by dozens of armed bodyguards.
When the heavy doors opened, Roman walked in. But this time, he wasn’t alone.
I walked beside him, wearing a stunning, floor-length red gown that contrasted sharply with my bald head. I wore a diamond necklace that had belonged to Roman’s grandmother—a direct insult to Vivienne. Behind us walked Marcus, his arm in a sling but a loaded Glock visible at his hip.
Dominic stood up, a smug smile on his face. “Roman. We didn’t expect you to bring your... accountant.”
The other bosses laughed, but the laughter died down quickly when Roman didn’t take his seat. Instead, he stood at the foot of the table, his eyes locked on Dominic.
“I hear there’s a vote of no confidence,” Roman said smoothly.
“There is,” Dominic said, leaning forward. “The Moretti family from Chicago has offered us a lucrative partnership, one that requires a stable, traditional leadership. We cannot risk our profits on a baby girl and a wife who thinks she’s a boss.”
“A stable leadership?” I spoke up, my voice cutting through the room like a knife. I stepped forward, tossing a stack of financial documents onto the table right in front of Dominic. “You mean a leadership where you take a thirty percent cut of everyone else’s profits and kick it back to Chicago?”
Dominic’s smile vanished. “What are you talking about?”
“Those are the transaction records from Dominic’s private shell companies,” I announced to the other bosses in the room. “For the last five years, Dominic has been skimming from your territories—not just Roman’s. He blamed the losses on 'government crackdowns,' but the money was going straight into his pockets and his friends in Chicago. He used Vivienne to hide the paper trail, but now that I own the books, I see everything.”
The other bosses immediately turned on Dominic, their expressions turning murderous.
“Dominic, you piece of garbage!” one of them yelled, reaching for his weapon.
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Before anyone could draw a gun, the lights in the ballroom snapped off.
Gunfire erupted in the darkness—deafening, chaotic, and blind.
