Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Don
"Marcus, wait!" Vincent shouted, scrambling backward as two of the Outfit enforcers grabbed him by the arms, forcing him to his knees on the carpet. "You can't do this! I built the South Side! I brought in the cash!"
Marcus turned slowly, his eyes dead and devoid of any mercy. "You brought in the cash, Vincent. But your wife kept the books. And more importantly, she just signed a binding non-aggression treaty with our syndicate, making her our primary commercial partner."
Marcus patted Vincent’s cheek patronizingly. "She’s smarter than you, boy. And she knows where all your bodies are buried—literally."
Vincent thrashed against the enforcers, his eyes bloodshot and wild as he looked up at me. "Madison! Please! Think of the baby! Think of our family!"
"Our family died in that hospital room, Vincent," I said, my voice devoid of warmth. "And as for our son? His name is Julian Carter-Vance. His birth certificate was amended this morning. Your parental rights were terminated under clause four of our pre-incorporation agreement due to gross abandonment during a medical crisis."
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"No... NO!" Vincent's scream echoed through the high-rise, a sound of pure, unadulterated despair as the enforcers dragged him out toward the private service elevator.
I watched him go, feeling nothing—no anger, no grief, just the sweet, clean taste of absolute victory.
