Chapter 11 - The Ripple Effect

The quiet transformation of Dominic Gallow's estate did not go unnoticed by the inner circle of the syndicate. In a world where every action was scrutinized for weakness, the sudden and permanent departure of a maid—accompanied by a blank-check medical endowment managed by the boss himself—sent a tremor through the upper echelons of the organization.
Viktor found Dominic standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his study, swirling a glass of amber bourbon. The afternoon light cast long, sharp shadows across the Persian rug where Linda had once swept up broken glass.
"The capos are whispering, Dominic," Viktor said, keeping a respectful distance. "They think you've gone soft. Marcus, in particular, has been asking questions about why we're redirecting funds from the shipping lanes into a hospital foundation."
Dominic didn't turn around. He took a slow sip of his drink, letting the burn settle before speaking. His voice was a low, dangerous growl. "Let Marcus ask questions. Curiosity is a fatal flaw in this business, Viktor. If anyone forgets whose name is on the ledger, remind them what happens to men who look where they shouldn't."
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"Understood," Viktor replied, his eyes narrowing. "Should I pay Marcus a visit?"
"Not yet," Dominic said, setting his glass down with a sharp clink against the mahogany. "Let them talk. A cornered rat makes mistakes. And I want to see who’s brave enough to test me."