Chapter 8 - The Saint's Retribution
That night, the storm raged outside Salvatore Carbone's private estate in the suburbs. Thunder shook the glass windows as Salvatore paced his study, waiting for the phone call confirming Mason Vance had been captured.
The phone rang. Salvatore snatched it up.
"Is it done?" he asked eagerly.
"It is done, Salvatore," my voice replied through the speaker.
Salvatore dropped the phone in shock. He spun around—and found me sitting in the high-backed leather chair behind his own desk, sipping from a glass of his finest scotch.
"G-Gabriel!" Salvatore stuttered, backing up until his spine hit the bookshelf. "How... how did you get in here?"
"Your guards work for me now, Salvatore," I said, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "They have for three years. Did you truly believe you could plot against me in my own city?"
Two of my men stepped out from the shadows, pinning Salvatore's arms behind his back and forcing him to his knees before his own fireplace.
"I gave you a chance," I said softly, standing up and looking down at him. "I allowed you to keep your life, your home, and your dignity after what your family did to those children. But you chose treachery. You chose to target a boy who never did anything to you."
"Please, Gabriel!" Salvatore sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "I was desperate! The shame... the loss of money—"
"You lost your money because you lacked honor," I interrupted flatly. "And tonight, you lose your place in this world."
I motioned to Vincent.
May you like
"Salvatore Carbone is officially stripped of all family ties, assets, and protection," I announced. "By midnight, his name will be erased from every ledger in Philadelphia. He will spend the rest of his days in a federal prison, where Viktor Petrov's associates are already waiting for him."
Salvatore screamed as my men dragged him out into the rain, his cries swallowed by the thunder outside.
