Chapter 4 - The Betrayal at the Gate Before Nico could reach for his service weapon, Marco materialized behind him like a ghost, driving a heavy forearm against Nico’s throat and slamming him face-first onto the mahogany desk. A suppressed pistol slipped from Nico’s shoulder holster, clattering loudly against the floor.
"Traitorous bastard," Marco spat, pinning Nico's arm behind his back with bone-crushing force.
Nico choked against the wood, his professional mask finally shattering into pure, panicked venom. "You think you're so untouchable, Dominic! You sit in your glass tower while the syndicate rots from the inside! Clara Vance found the offshore accounts linking the federal wiretaps directly to my desk—accounts I used to buy out your capos! She threatened to tell you, so I had her disposed of. And those brats should have starved in the snow weeks ago!"
The confession hung in the air, echoing off the glass walls.
Dominic didn't scream. He didn't rage. He walked slowly around the desk, picked up Nico’s dropped pistol, and checked the chamber with cold, methodical precision.
"You used my building as a slaughterhouse," Dominic whispered, pressing the cold steel barrel against the center of Nico’s forehead. "You stole a mother from two little girls who trusted this lobby to keep them safe."
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"Kill me and the feds seize everything by morning!" Nico gasped, sweating profusely.
"The feds won't get a file," Dominic replied softly. "Marco, take him down to the subterranean vault. Let him think about what it feels like to wait in the dark for thirty-eight days."
