Chapter 4 - The Threat from the Docks
The transition from maid to honored guest was neither smooth nor quiet.
Within forty-eight hours, Genevieve Falcone had been escorted off the property by security guards, screaming curses that echoed across the iron gates. Her father, Arthur Vance, was not a man to suffer such humiliation in silence.
In the dark underbelly of Providence, whispers began to circulate. The Vance family had controlled the city's union docks for thirty years, working hand-in-hand with the northern syndicates. Adriano’s public humiliation of Genevieve was seen as a declaration of war.
It was a rainy Thursday evening when the tension escalated into reality.
Adriano was in his study reviewing shipping manifests with Dante when the internal estate line chimed.
"Don Falcone," Marco, the gate guard, reported over the speaker. "A convoy of three black sedans just pulled up to the outer gate. It’s Arthur Vance. He’s demanding an immediate audience."
Adriano didn't flinch. "Let him in. But search his men at the courtyard."
Ten minutes later, the heavy double doors of the library swung open.
Arthur Vance stepped inside. He was sixty years old, with slicked-back silver hair, cold grey eyes, and a tailored coat draped over his broad shoulders. Behind him stood two massive enforcers, their hands folded neatly over their belts.
Adriano remained seated behind his mahogany desk, casually twirling an antique gold pen between his fingers.
"Arthur," Adriano said flatly. "You're trespassing."
"You threw my daughter out like trash, Falcone," Arthur growled, his voice gravelly from decades of heavy cigars. "You stripped her of her credit cards, locked her in a room, and humiliated my bloodline in front of every power player in Rhode Island!"
"Your daughter shoved a grieving widow into a swimming pool and laughed at a four-year-old child," Adriano replied coldly. "She’s lucky I let her leave with her teeth."
Arthur took a step closer to the desk, slamming his heavy palm onto the wood. "I don't give a damn about a maid! Genevieve is a Vance! You married her to secure the eastern docks, and now you think you can toss her aside for a piece of white-trash house staff?"
Adriano stood up slowly.
The air in the room instantly dropped ten degrees. The two enforcers behind Arthur visibly tensed, their hands twitching toward their jackets.
"Watch your mouth, Arthur," Adriano whispered, his dark eyes locking onto the older man’s face. "The woman you are referring to is the widow of Thomas Hail."
Arthur blinked, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features before he quickly masked it with disgust. "The electrician? The idiot who dragged you out of the ditch on Route 9?"
"The man who died because your allies in Boston tampered with his truck," Adriano corrected, taking a step around the desk. "I owe Thomas my life. Which means his wife and child are under my protection. If you so much as breathe near them, Arthur, I won't just take your docks. I will erase your family name from this city."
Arthur let out a cold, bitter laugh. "You think you're untouchable, Adriano? You think your little fortress protects you? The Boston syndicates are already moving south. They know you're distracted by this maid. If you don't reinstate Genevieve and apologize publicly by Monday... those docks will burn. And so will this house."
Arthur turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his enforcers trailing behind him.
Adriano watched the doors close. He turned to Dante, who stood quietly near the window.
"Double the perimeter security," Adriano commanded. "Put two guards on Rebecca and Clementine at all times. If they leave the estate grounds, I want an armored convoy with them."
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"Yes, Don Falcone," Dante said. "And what about Arthur Vance?"
Adriano looked out the window into the pouring rain. "Find out where the Boston syndicates are meeting him tonight. It's time I reminded New England why my father called me the Reaper."
