Chapter 8 - The Council’s Reply
Three days later, the secure phone on Damien’s desk buzzed with a coded red signal.
Marcus Sterling walked into the study, holding a secure tablet displaying an encrypted transmission intercepted from the northern council’s primary relay station in Cicero.
Damien stood by the window, looking out over the city while Nora sat on the leather sofa, cleaning the slide of a Glock 19 with a small cloth and a bottle of gun oil.
“They’ve folded,” Marcus announced, a rare smile touching the corners of his mouth. “The council’s remaining elders just sent a formal notice of capitulation. They’re handing over the docks in Gary, stepping down from the transit board, and acknowledging Volkov hegemony across the entire tri-state area.”
Damien didn't turn around immediately. He stared out at the glittering expanse of Lake Michigan, his expression calm, cold, and utterly triumphant.
“Tell them we accept their terms,” Damien said smoothly. “And tell them if any of their associates so much as looks at a restaurant window in my city again, I won't just take their docks—I’ll take their names off the maps entirely.”
“Consider it done,” Marcus nodded, turning on his heel and exiting the penthouse with crisp efficiency.
Nora snapped the slide of her pistol back into place with a sharp, satisfying clack, setting it down on the coffee table. She stood up, walking over to stand beside Damien at the floor-to-ceiling glass.
“It’s quiet,” she observed quietly.
“Too quiet,” Damien replied, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close against his side. “Which means it’s time to start building.”
“Building what?”
“An empire that doesn't need to hide behind guards or red dots,” Damien said, looking down into her eyes with a fierce, unwavering light. “Starting with dinner at Aurelius. This time, without the interruptions.”
Nora laughed—a rich, genuine sound that chased the last of the shadows from the room.
May you like
“Only if I get to pick the table,” she said.
“Any table in the house,” Damien agreed, pulling her closer as the Chicago sun began to rise over the lake, painting the skyline in brilliant shades of gold and amber. “You earned every square inch of it.”
