Chapter 7 - THE RECKONINGThe Grand Crystal Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was filled with Chicago's elite.
Polished crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over hundreds of guests—corrupt politicians, syndicate bosses, high-society billionaires, and heavy armed security enforcers.
Julian Lombardi stood on the grand raised stage, holding a glass of vintage champagne. Beside him stood Don Victor Moretti, the ruthless seventy-year-old head of the Moretti family.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Julian announced into the microphone, his voice booming through the acoustics of the ballroom. "Tonight, we close a dark chapter in Chicago's history. My beloved brother, Sebastian, was a great man. But his mind was corrupted by illness and traitorous elements. Tonight, as the new head of the Lombardi Syndicate, I sign the Grand Unification Treaty with the Moretti family!"
The crowd clapped enthusiastically. Armed enforcers lined the walls, their hands resting on concealed submachine guns under their tuxedos.
"To the memory of Sebastian Lombardi!" Julian toasted, raising his glass high. "May he rest in peace!"
BANG!
The massive, twelve-foot iron double doors of the ballroom blew inward with explosive force, shattering into splintered shrapnel!
Smoke and dust filled the air as the high-society guests shrieked in terror, diving under tables!
Through the billowing white smoke, a single figure walked into the ballroom.
He wasn't in a wheelchair.
He walked with a slow, deliberate, powerful stride. He wore a bespoke charcoal-grey three-piece suit. In his right hand, he held a heavy tactical shotgun. In his left hand, he held a silenced pistol.
The smoke cleared.
The entire room went dead silent. Glasses dropped to the floor, shattering into million pieces.
Julian’s face went completely ash-white. His champagne glass slipped from his fingers, crashing onto the marble stage.
"S... Sebastian?" Julian whispered, his voice trembling in horrific, unadulterated terror.
"You raised your glass too early, brother," Sebastian Lombardi’s voice boomed through the ballroom like the judgment of God.
"KILL HIM!" Don Moretti screamed, pointing a shaking finger at Sebastian. "KILL HIM NOW!"
Twenty Moretti enforcers drew their weapons.
Before they could squeeze a single trigger, the glass skylights of the ballroom shattered! Gabriel and fifty elite Lombardi loyalists descended on tactical ropes, opening devastating, precise fire on the Moretti gunmen!
The ballroom turned into a war zone. Machine gun fire ripped through the crystal chandeliers, dropping shower of sparks and falling glass upon the screaming crowd.
Sebastian didn't run. He didn't hide.
He marched down the center aisle, stepping over falling bodies, firing his shotgun with brutal, mechanical precision. Every step he took was a defiance of twenty years of paralysis. Every step was a testament to the miraculous hands of the woman waiting in the safehouse.
BOOM!
Sebastian took out Moretti’s lead bodyguard.
BOOM!
He shattered Don Moretti’s kneecap, dropping the old mob boss to his knees, screaming in agony.
Julian turned and sprinted toward the rear VIP exit behind the stage, fleeing like a frightened rat.
Sebastian racked the slide of his shotgun, his eyes locked on his brother's retreating back.
"Julian!" Sebastian roared.
Julian froze at the door. Slowly, terrified, he turned around.
Sebastian walked up the steps of the stage, stopping just three feet from his younger brother. The dark barrel of the shotgun was aimed directly at Julian's chest.
"Sebastian... please!" Julian sobbed, dropping to his knees, clutching his hands together in desperate prayer. "I did it for the family! You were weak! You were sitting in that chair for twenty years, letting the empire decay! I had to do it! I planted the C4 twenty years ago because Father loved you more! I poisoned your drink because you were going to ruin everything!"
"You didn't do it for the family, Julian," Sebastian said, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "You did it because you were small. And small men always cut the legs off giants to feel tall."
"Please..." Julian wept, tears and snot streaming down his expensive suit. "We have the same blood!"
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"My blood," Sebastian spat, "does not run in traitors."
BOOM!
