Chapter 7 - The Confrontation
The high-ceilinged boardroom was tense as I walked in, taking my seat at the head of the long mahogany table. Victor sat near my right hand, wearing his usual calm, distinguished expression.
"Dominic," Victor said smoothly. "We heard about the security breach at the estate last night. Are the children unharmed?"
"They are safe," I replied quietly. "Because the snakes who entered my home were sloppy."
I placed a recorder on the table and hit play. Isabella’s voice echoed through the silent room, followed by the clear, unedited audio of Victor negotiating terms with the Mendoza lieutenants two years ago.
Victor’s face drained of color. The other commanders at the table shifted in their seats, their hands moving instinctively toward their coats. In our world, betraying blood and family was an unforgivable offense.
"You brought war into my house, Victor," I said, standing up as my men stepped into the room to seal the exits. "You murdered my wife, and you poisoned my daughter's mind."
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Victor panicked, reaching for a hidden firearm in his jacket, but my men disarmed him before he could pull the trigger. He was dragged away to face the ruthless justice of the Syndicate board.
I left the compound without looking back. For fifteen years, I would have answered violence with endless bloodshed. But that night, I simply wanted to go home.
