Chapter 8 - The Council at Sunrise
The gray dawn of Sunday morning broke over Port Alder, casting a cold, watery light across the concrete plaza outside Costello Tower downtown. Armored black SUVs formed a barricade around the entrance. Inside the ground-floor boardroom, fifty senior capos, union bosses, and syndicate lieutenants sat around a massive oval table.
At the head of the table sat Vanessa Moretti, wearing a sharp white pantsuit and a triumphant, venomous smile, flanked by three dozen armed loyalists loyal to the old guard.
When the heavy mahogany double doors swung open, every head turned.
Adriano walked in with absolute, unhurried authority.
And walking right beside him, dressed in a tailored charcoal blazer with my head held high, was me.
A murmur of shock and outrage rippled through the room. Vanessa slammed her hands down on the table and stood up.
“Have you lost your mind, Adriano?” she shrieked, pointing a manicured finger at me. “You bring a gala waitress into the inner council of the Costello Syndicate? You’ve gone soft over a penniless nobody!”
“She is not a nobody, Vanessa,” Adriano said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. He pulled out a chair at the opposite end of the table and motioned for me to sit. I took my seat calmly, folding my hands in front of me.
“Meet Eliza Brennan,” Adriano continued, looking around the room at the startled faces of the syndicate capos. “The legal majority shareholder of Costello Holdings and the rightful heir to the Brennan shipping estate.”
“That’s a lie!” an older union boss shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “David Brennan has been dead for twenty years! The girl is a waitress!”
“Check your encrypted tablets, gentlemen,” Adriano said smoothly.
Simultaneously, fifty tablets across the table buzzed with incoming legal documents, federal asset transfers, and forensic audits detailing twenty years of embezzlement by the old guard.
“For two decades, my uncles stole from the Brennan estate to fund this syndicate,” Adriano announced, his voice echoing off the glass walls. “As of five minutes ago, I have dissolved the old charter. Costello Holdings is officially merging with Brennan Maritime. We are cutting ties with every illegal cartel, every corrupt union kickback, and every criminal enterprise operating under our name.”
Vanessa’s face drained of all color. “You can’t do that! You’ll destroy the empire! My father controls the docks!”
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“Your father is currently answering federal grand jury subpoenas,” Adriano replied coldly.
Chaos erupted. Several capos reached for their holstered sidearms, shouting orders to their guards. The room instantly transformed into a tinderbox of violence, with guns clicking and men shouting across the table.
