Chapter 18 - The Plaza MassacreThe grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel glittered with crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, and elite figures of New York's underworld. When the massive double doors swung open, the entire room went dead silent.
Rico Moretti strode in, his tailored tuxedo immaculate, his hand resting firmly on the small of Clara’s back. Clara walked beside him with the grace of a queen, her crimson dress drawing every gaze in the room.
At the center table sat Don Giovanni, the aging patriarch of the Petrov syndicate, flanked by corrupt city officials and armed capos.
"Moretti," Giovanni sneered, raising his champagne glass in a mock salute. "Bold of you to show your face here after what happened to your little domestic situation."
Rico didn't sit down. He stood tall, looking down at Giovanni with absolute contempt. "I heard you were looking for my fiancée, Giovanni. So I brought her to you."
Giovanni’s eyes flicked to Clara, and his face instantly turned the color of ash. "Clara Vance? That's impossible. Salvatore said—"
"Salvatore is currently feeding the fish in the East River," Rico interrupted smoothly.
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Panic erupted at the table. Petrov capos reached inside their jackets for their weapons, but before they could clear leather, the doors around the ballroom locked from the outside. Moretti loyalists dropped their disguises as waiters and security guards, raising assault rifles and training them directly on Giovanni and his men.
"You're surrounded, Giovanni," Rico said, his voice echoing coldly across the silent ballroom. "The syndicate is finished. Effective immediately."
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