Chapter 19 - The New LawWhen we returned to the bunker, a miracle awaited us.
Dr. Vance met us at the door of the medical bay, covered in sweat but smiling for the first time in hours.
"He stabilized," Dr. Vance breathed. "The toxins are flushed. Tommy’s going to make a full recovery."
I sank to the floor, the adrenaline finally leaving my body, weeping openly in relief. Victor knelt beside me, pulling me into a fierce, protective embrace, kissing the top of my head repeatedly.
But the victory was short-lived.
The next morning, as the sun rose over a scarred but silent Chicago, a black helicopter with unmarked tail numbers landed on the helipad of the Russo Tower.
Four men in immaculate tailored suits stepped out. They didn't look like thugs; they looked like Wall Street billionaires. But the aura of terrifying power they carried made even Victor’s elite guards hesitate.
It was the Commission. The supreme governing body of the American underworld.
Victor and I met them in the penthouse boardroom. We were both battered, bruised, but standing tall.
The man at the center, Don Carmine, an ancient, ruthless boss from New York, looked around the shattered penthouse with a sneer.
"You've made a mess of Chicago, Victor," Carmine croaked, leaning on a silver-tipped cane. "You wiped out the Outfit. You killed your own brother. You've drawn the FBI’s attention to our entire national network."
"I protected what is mine," Victor replied coldly, crossing his arms.
"You've become a liability," Carmine corrected, his eyes shifting to me with sheer disdain. "And you let a maid sit at the war table. The Commission has voted. You will step down. Chicago will be divided among the New York families. You and your little bride will retire to Europe, or you will both be eliminated."
The tension in the room thickened into concrete. The four Commission bosses had heavily armed guards waiting in the lobby. We were outnumbered.
Victor looked at me, a dark, dangerous question in his eyes.
I didn't blink. I walked slowly around the mahogany table, stopping right in front of Don Carmine.
"You think we are stepping down?" I asked softly.
"It wasn't a request, little girl," Carmine spat.
I smiled. I reached into my jacket and tossed a thick manila envelope onto the table.
"That is a heavily encrypted flash drive," I said clearly. "It contains the routing numbers, blackmail photos, and political bribes for every single Commission member in North America. I recovered it from Dante’s private server last night."
Carmine’s face went chalk white.
"If anything happens to Victor, to my brother, or to me," I whispered, leaning close so Carmine could smell my perfume, "that drive automatically emails its contents to the FBI, the CIA, and Interpol. You won't just lose Chicago. You will lose your freedom, your families, and your lives."
The three other bosses shifted nervously, exchanging terrified glances.
"You're bluffing," Carmine hissed.
"Test me," I challenged, my eyes burning with absolute, chilling authority.
Silence reigned in the boardroom for a full minute. The ancient Don looked at the twenty-four-year-old girl who had once cleaned toilets for a living, and for the first time in his life, he saw the face of sheer, unbeatable terror.
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Slowly, agonizingly, Don Carmine lowered his head in a gesture of utter submission.
"What are your terms, Mrs. Russo?" he asked hoarsely.
