Chapter 8 - The Judgment of the Syndicate
Julian panicked. He reached into his suit coat for his gun.
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Before Julian’s hand could clear his pocket, a silenced shot from Marcus’s rifle caught Julian through his hand, blowing his pistol out of his grip and pinning his palm to the oak table.
Julian shrieked in agony, falling to his knees, clutching his bleeding hand as blood splattered across the crisp white tablecloth.
“DON'T MOVE!” Marcus barked, aiming his rifle directly at Julian’s head.
Meredith scrambled backward, hiding behind the high-backed leather chair, her hands shaking violently. “Declan! Please! I’m your sister! I was forced into this by Julian! He threatened me!”
Declan stopped at the foot of the head table. He didn't look at Julian. He looked at the forty regional crime bosses sitting around the room.
“Gentlemen of the board,” Declan said calmly, taking the leather folder from Emma’s hand and laying it on the table. “Julian Vance and Meredith Shaw did not attempt a takeover because I was weak. They attempted a takeover because I caught them embezzling forty million dollars from your private shipping dividends.”
A sudden, angry roar went up from the regional bosses.
“What?!” an old crime boss named Falcone barked, standing up, glaring at Julian. “Is this true, Declan?”
“Emma,” Declan said softly.
Emma stepped forward, her voice calm, clear, and steady as she addressed the room of terrifying men without a single trace of fear.
“Inside this folder are bank records from Zurich and the Cayman Islands,” Emma explained, opening the files. “For eighteen months, Julian and Meredith funneled six percent of every Syndicate shipping haul into private shell accounts. When Declan began auditing the books, they realized they were about to be exposed.”
Emma pulled out a clear plastic bag containing the black ultrasonic device taken from the teddy bear.
“And to ensure Declan was too distracted to notice the theft,” Emma continued, her voice turning to ice, “Meredith Shaw placed this high-frequency torture device inside a stuffed animal given to Declan’s six-year-old motherless twin daughters. For fifty-six nights, they tortured little girls to steal your money.”
A deafening silence fell over the ballroom.
The regional crime bosses looked from the black machine in Emma’s hands to Meredith, who was cowering behind the chair, weeping hysterical tears of terror.
In the criminal underworld, there were rules. Business was business, and war was war. But torturing children and stealing from the board was a death sentence that no amount of money could buy out.
Old man Falcone stood up, his face dark with profound rage. He pulled a silver coin from his pocket and threw it onto the table in front of Julian.
“The board revokes your protection, Julian,” Falcone spat out. “You are a dog.”
One by one, every regional boss in the room pulled a coin from their pocket and tossed it onto the table, officially stripping Julian and Meredith of all Syndicate standing, rank, and protection.
Julian looked up from the floor, his face covered in blood and sweat, realizing that his coup had completely, utterly disintegrated.
“Declan…” Julian begged, crawling toward him on his knees. “Please… mercy… we’re family…”
Declan looked down at the man who had ordered his daughters tortured and his maid killed.
“Family does not torture children, Julian,” Declan said softly.
Declan didn't pull a trigger. He simply stepped back, taking Emma’s hand in his own.
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“Marcus,” Declan ordered flatly. “Hand them over to the federal task force waiting outside. Let them spend the rest of their natural lives in a maximum-security prison cell, listening to the buzzing of fluorescent lights.”
As federal agents poured into the ballroom to drag the screaming Meredith and Julian away in handcuffs, Declan turned away, leading Emma safely out of the room, leaving the dark empire behind him forever.
