Chapter 5 - The Council's Counter-Strike While Dante dealt with the betrayal within his gates, a much darker storm was gathering in downtown Chicago. Viktor Vance had not spent forty years in the syndicate by waiting for fate to handle his problems. Locked in the west wing lounge with the remaining eight regional captains, Vance was already carving up the carcass of the Vatello empire.
"The boss has lost his mind over a street brat," Viktor hissed, pacing across the Persian rug while lighting a thick Cuban cigar. "A biological heir changes the succession laws of the commission, yes—but only if the boy lives to see his ninth birthday. If the kid has an unfortunate accident tonight, Dante remains a childless king whose inner circle is actively tearing itself apart."
Across the table, Dominic Moretti, the ruthless boss of the South Side gun-running rings, leaned forward, a grim smile playing on his lips. "And what about Marco? Word is he’s locked in the vault. If Dante breaks Marco, the rest of us are exposed. Marco knows every bank account, every bribe, every federal judge on our payroll."
"Exactly," Viktor said, tapping the ash into a crystal tray. "Which means we play our hand tonight. We use our men inside the estate perimeter. We take out the boy to break Dante psychologically, and we spring Marco from the vault before he can sing."
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Viktor pulled out an encrypted burner phone, dialing a private frequency that connected directly to a mercenary strike team waiting outside the high-voltage iron perimeter.
"Move in," Viktor whispered into the receiver. "Secure the main house. Leave no witnesses."
