Chapter 10 - The Syndicate Summit

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The Grand Plaza Hotel was surrounded by three rings of private security.
Every major family head of the eastern syndicate was in attendance for the annual autumn summit.
Black limousines lined the cobblestone driveway under the glare of flashing paparazzi cameras.
Adrian Romano stepped out of his vehicle, flanked by Sal and eight of his most trusted soldiers.
He wore a tailored black tuxedo, but the sharp fabric could not hide the tension radiating from his frame.
He had spent the last three days trying to call Sophia, but his number had been permanently blocked.
He had sent letters, flowers, and even his mother’s personal plea, but every delivery had been returned unopened.
Adrian walked into the grand ballroom beneath the blinding light of three crystal chandeliers.
The room buzzed with the murmur of a hundred powerful men and women dressed in silk and diamonds.
At the center of the room stood Don Carmine Falcone, the elderly chairman of the syndicate council.
Falcone turned his cold, rheumy eyes toward Adrian.
“Adrian,” Falcone greeted him with a stiff nod.
“We were just discussing the recent developments at the port authority.”
“It seems Vanguard Maritime has completely locked down the southern shipping berths.”
Adrian clenched his jaw, trying to project absolute confidence.
“It is a temporary administrative hiccup, Don Carmine.”
“My legal counsel is currently challenging the tender in the district court.”
“We will regain control of the berths by the end of the month.”
A dry, melodic voice cut through the grand hall from the main entrance.
“Your legal counsel filed their injunction under the wrong commercial jurisdiction, Adrian.”
The entire ballroom went dead silent.
Adrian turned slowly, his heart stopping in his throat.
Sophia walked down the grand marble staircase with majestic, unhurried grace.
She was breathtaking.
She wore a floor-length emerald silk gown with an open back and a daring slit that showed her diamond-encrusted heels.
Her throat was adorned with a vintage emerald necklace that outshone every piece of jewelry in the room.
She did not look like the shadow who had once poured coffee for mafia capos.
She looked like an empress entering her conquered territory.
Beside her walked Victor Moretti, impeccably dressed, his posture relaxed and proud.
Every eye in the room was glued to her.
Men who had once ignored her at Adrian’s dinners now bowed their heads with instinctive deference.
Don Carmine Falcone stepped forward, a genuine smile breaking across his wrinkled face.
“Sophia, my dear,” Falcone said, extending his hand.
Sophia took the old mobster’s hand and allowed him to kiss the air above her knuckles.
“Don Carmine,” she greeted him with flawless warmth.
“I brought the updated cargo projections for the winter quarter.”
“Our new cold-storage rail system is officially operational four weeks ahead of schedule.”
Falcone beamed with undisguised delight.
“Incredible work, young lady.”
“You have brought more efficiency to our transport lines in one week than the Romano docks managed in three years.”
Adrian felt a surge of humiliating fury rush to his head.
He stepped forward, pushing past two bodyguards until he was standing three feet from his wife.
“Sophia,” Adrian choked out, his voice raw and unsteady.
Sophia turned her head toward him slowly, as though noticing a minor smudge on the marble floor.
Her eyes were cool, polite, and completely empty of affection.
“Good evening, Mr. Romano,” she said.
The title hit him like a shotgun blast to the chest.
Not Adrian.
Not husband.
Mr. Romano.
“We need to talk in private,” Adrian whispered desperately, reaching out a hand toward her bare arm.
Victor Moretti instantly stepped between them, his hand resting casually on his lapel.
“Watch your hands, Romano,” Victor warned, his voice dangerously low.
“The lady is conducting business with the council.”
Adrian’s eyes blazed with lethal hatred as he locked eyes with his rival.
“She is my wife, Moretti!”
Sophia looked at Adrian with a calm, devastating smile that made the entire ballroom hold its breath.
May you like
“A wife you publicly called your shame, Adrian.”
“And tonight, I am here to collect the debt.”