Chapter 17 - The Chicago SummitA month after securing our European assets, it was time to return to the epicenter where everything had started: Chicago.

The private jet touched down at O'Hare International Airport under a crisp, clear autumn sky. A fleet of black armored Mercedes-Benz sedans waited on the private tarmac, flanked by two dozen elite syndicate enforcers standing at attention.
When the cabin door opened, I stepped out first, my sunglasses reflecting the bright October sunlight, followed closely by Dominic.
We drove straight to the historic Palmer House hotel in downtown Chicago, where sixty regional capos, labor union bosses, and underground syndicate leaders were gathered for the annual autumn summit.
When Dominic and I walked through the double doors of the grand ballroom, the entire room stood up in unison. The silence was absolute, heavy with the weight of absolute authority.
I took my seat at the center of the dais, right beside Dominic, looking out across a room of men who once would have laughed at the mere thought of a female executive in their ranks. Now, they didn't dare breathe without my approval.
"Welcome, gentlemen," I began, my voice clear, commanding, and echoing off the crystal chandeliers. "Over the past few months, this syndicate has undergone a complete restructuring. We have eliminated internal corruption, secured our financial portfolios across three continents, and established legitimate enterprise fronts that protect our interests for the next generation."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
"Effective immediately," I continued, leaning forward and resting my hands on the podium, "all drug trafficking routes through the South Side are permanently closed and replaced by legitimate international shipping and import logistics. Anyone who violates this policy answers directly to me."
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A heavy silence hung in the air for three seconds before the regional capo of the South Side stood up, bowed his head respectfully, and raised his glass. "Understood, Ms. Carter. Long live the syndicate."
Across the room, sixty glasses rose in unison. The transformation was complete.