Chapter 10 - THE QUEEN'S MOVEThe final chapter of the Bellhaven Grand blood feud began with an unexpected delivery.
It was a crisp Monday morning in Chicago. Dominic and Amelia were seated at the mahogany breakfast table in the penthouse suite, reviewing the quarterly financial ledgers of the newly acquired Northside shipping docks, when Thomas stepped into the room carrying a heavy, unmarked wooden crate.
"Just arrived via international courier from Palermo," Thomas said, placing the crate on the edge of the table. "No return address. Bomb squad already cleared it."
Dominic set his coffee cup down, his eyes narrowing. He motioned for Thomas to open it.
With a sharp crack of a crowbar, Thomas lifted the lid. Inside, resting on a bed of black velvet, was a silver plaque engraved with the crest of the Sicilian Syndicate—and a single, pristine white rose dripping with crimson paint.
A chilling message without a single word written.
Amelia leaned forward, unbothered by the macabre display. She reached out, gently touched the painted petals, and then picked up a small folded card tucked beneath the crest.
She unfolded it and read the Italian inscription aloud:
"A rose for the queen who thinks she has conquered the board. The game in Palermo is much larger than Chicago, little maid."
Dominic’s jaw clenched, a dangerous fury igniting in his slate-gray eyes. "Don Salvatore Falcone. He thinks he can threaten my house from across the sea."
Amelia, however, didn't look angry. Instead, a slow, brilliant, fearless smile spread across her face—the smile of someone who had spent years cleaning mirrors and watching the hidden truths of the world unfold.
May you like
She stood up, smoothing the front of her tailored blazer, and looked down at Dominic.
"He thinks I'm just a hotel maid who got lucky," Amelia said softly, her voice carrying an absolute, razor-sharp confidence. "Let's book a flight to Sicily, Dominic. It's time to clean a new mirror."
