Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Syndicate
While peace seemed to settle over the Hanover Street fortress, a storm was brewing in the dark underbelly of the Boston docks.
At midnight, inside an abandoned warehouse on Pier 9, four men sat around a poker table under a single hanging light bulb.
At the head of the table sat Vincent "The Viper" Rossini—Dominic’s ambitious, second-in-command lieutenant. Beside him stood Julian Ashford, the disgraced landlord who had fired Belle earlier that day.
Julian’s face was bruised, his hands shaking as he poured himself a glass of cheap whiskey.
"Dominic ruined me!" Julian spat, slamming his glass onto the wood. "He pulled my harbor permits! He threatened my estate over a damn maid and her bastard child!"
Vincent Rossini smiled—a cold, thin expression that didn't reach his yellowed eyes. "Dominic is getting soft, Julian. Ever since his wife died, he spends more time worrying about his daughter's piano lessons than collecting our thirty percent cut from the shipping unions."
"And now?" Julian asked, leaning in. "He brought that maid into his home. The whole street is talking about it. He treats her like royalty!"
Vincent flicked a silver coin into the center of the table. "Dominic’s weakness has always been his sentimentality. He thinks he’s a protector. He thinks he can bring a homeless maid and her boy into our world and keep them clean."
Vincent leaned back, his eyes narrowing into lethal slits.
"The Commission is meeting next month to vote on the harbor expansion," Vincent whispered. "If Dominic looks weak—if he looks like he's letting personal feelings dictate business—we take his seat at the table."
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"And the girl?" Julian asked with a bitter sneer. "The maid?"
"If Dominic cares about her," Vincent sneered, "then she's the best leverage we've had in three years. Keep your eyes on that house, Julian. When the time comes, we hit him where it hurts most."
