Chapter 5 - THE CONFRONTATION
The grand ballroom of the Moretti estate was filled with the elite of the city's underworld. The Lock Syndicate, led by Vivian’s older brother, Victor Lock, had arrived in full force for the signing of the merger.
The merger would combine the Moretti and Lock territories, creating an unstoppable empire. But more importantly, it would give the Locks access to Dominic’s shipping routes—routes they had coveted for decades.
Vivian stood near the grand piano, wearing a stunning black evening gown. She looked like a queen preparing to ascend her throne. She held a glass of champagne, her eyes scanning the room with smug satisfaction.
The triplets were seated at a small, supervised table in the corner. They were quiet, their faces pale, still under the lingering effects of the low-dose arsenic.
Dominic entered the ballroom. The crowd parted instantly, bowing their heads in respect. He walked with an icy, calm grace, taking his place at the head of the massive conference table set up at the center of the room.
Victor Lock, a arrogant man with a scarred lip, smiled as he sat down opposite Dominic.
"Dominic," Victor said, sliding a thick stack of legal documents across the table. "A historic night. Once we sign, the city is ours."
Dominic looked at the papers, then at Vivian, who had walked over to stand beside her brother.
"Before I sign," Dominic said, his voice echoing through the silent ballroom, "I have a small family matter to resolve."
Victor frowned. "Family matter? Can't this wait until after the ink is dry?"
"No," Dominic said. He gestured to the side.
The double doors of the ballroom opened, and Marco walked in, pushing a wheelchair.
Seated in the wheelchair, his legs covered by a blanket, his face bruised and pale, was Dr. Miles Harlan.
A collective murmur ran through the crowd. Vivian’s champagne glass trembled, a tiny drop spilling onto her white glove.
"What is the meaning of this?" Victor demanded, standing up. "Why is your family doctor dragged out here looking like a corpse?"
"Dr. Harlan has had a sudden attack of conscience," Dominic said, his voice dangerously smooth. "He wanted to share a medical report with our guests."
Dominic signaled Marco, who pulled a document from his coat and read aloud.
"For the past three years, Dr. Miles Harlan, under the direct orders and financial compensation of Vivian Lock, has been administering low doses of arsenic to Mateo, Enzo, and Lucia Moretti. The purpose was to induce neurological damage, allowing Vivian Lock to declare the children unfit heirs and gain custody of the Moretti estate in the event of Dominic Moretti's... untimely death."
The room erupted into shocked whispers. Guns were quietly unholstered under coats. The tension in the room skyrocketed to a lethal level.
"This is a lie!" Vivian shrieked, her mask completely shattering. "Dominic, he is insane! He’s trying to frame me!"
"Is he?" Dominic stood up, leaning over the table. "Then perhaps you can explain why my wife’s personal journal, containing details of your blackmail and the arsenic you used to frame her for madness, was found locked in your private safe?"
Dominic threw the leather-bound journal onto the table. Beside it, he dropped the burned napkin with the silver stars.
"And perhaps," Dominic continued, his voice dropping to a growl that sounded like a hunting hound, "you can explain why my wife, Rosalie Moretti, is currently being held under a false name at the St. Jude Sanitarium, a facility funded entirely by your family's shell companies?"
Victor Lock reached for his gun, but before his hand could touch his holster, Dominic drew his weapon with blinding speed.
BANG!
A single shot echoed through the ballroom. Victor’s gun hand was shattered, blood spraying onto the white tablecloth. He fell back into his chair, screaming in agony.
Within a split second, thirty of Dominic’s loyal soldiers drew their weapons, aiming them directly at the Lock syndicate members. The Lock men, outnumbered and outgunned, slowly raised their hands.
Vivian fell to her knees, her face white with terror. She looked up at Dominic, her hands shaking.
"Dominic... please... I did it for us," she lied, her voice cracking. "I wanted to be your wife. I wanted to give you healthy children. Rosalie was weak..."
Dominic walked around the table, stopping in front of her. He looked down at her with nothing but absolute disgust.
"You are not fit to speak her name," Dominic said. He looked at Marco. "Take Vivian. Place her in the same cell at St. Jude’s where she kept my wife. Let her experience the 'treatments' she paid for. For the rest of her life."
"No! No! Dominic, please!" Vivian screamed as she was dragged out of the ballroom, her expensive gown tearing against the marble floor.
May you like
Dominic then turned to the crowd of syndicate bosses.
"The merger is canceled," Dominic announced, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "The Lock family is stripped of all territories, effective immediately. Anyone who supports them will be hunted down and eliminated. This meeting is adjourned."
