Chapter 7 - The New York Summit
The Plaza Hotel in Manhattan was locked down under heavy security.
Dozens of armed men in dark suits stood outside the grand ballroom, where the heads of the most powerful syndicate families in the United States were gathering for the quarterly Commission summit.
When the heavy doors opened, a murmur of anticipation rippled through the room.
Enzo Marchetti walked in, looking magnificent in a bespoke black tuxedo, his imposing presence commanding instant respect from every Don in the room.
But it was the woman on his arm that captivated every eye.
Adeline stepped beside him, wearing an exquisite emerald-green silk gown that trailed elegantly across the carpet. A breathtaking diamond necklace—a Marchetti family heirloom worth millions—glittered against her throat. Her hair was styled in a sophisticated updo, and her chin was held high, her eyes calm, intelligent, and unbothered by the stares of the most dangerous men in America.
"Don Marchetti," Don Carmine—a silver-haired, eighty-year-old titan sitting at the head of the long oak table—greeted them with a sharp, approving smile. "Welcome."
Enzo pulled out a chair for Adeline before taking his seat beside her at the table.
"So this is the girl who saved your life," Don Carmine observed, his shrewd eyes studying Adeline carefully. "A maid who recognized potassium cyanide before it reached your lips."
"She is not a maid, Don Carmine," Enzo said, his voice deep and absolute, resounding across the silent room. "She is Adeline Croft. My equal in every sense."
A few older Dons exchanged skeptical glances.
"She has no bloodline, Enzo," Don Falcone, a traditionalist boss from Brooklyn, grumbled, puffing on a thick cigar. "Our traditions require high-born unions to maintain political stability. You ended an engagement with the Ashford family—a dynasty—for a girl without a name."
Adeline didn't flinch. She set her clutch on the table, turned her calm gaze toward Don Falcone, and spoke in a clear, resonant voice that silenced the room.
"Dynasties built on betrayal are houses of cards, Don Falcone," Adeline said smoothly. "The Ashford family had bloodline, yet Camilla Ashford tried to murder her betrothed in his own home and ruined her father's empire in a single night. A title does not guarantee loyalty. Character does."
Don Falcone stared at her, his cigar hovering inches from his mouth, completely stunned by her sharp, fearless logic.
Don Carmine let out a sudden, roaring laugh that shook his frail shoulders. "Well said, my dear! Well said!"
The old Chairman slammed his fist onto the table, looking around at the gathered bosses.
"Loyalty is the only currency that matters in our world," Don Carmine declared. "Enzo Marchetti has doubled his territory, secured the Chicago ports, and brought a woman of true courage to his side. The Commission officially recognizes the Marchetti takeover of all Ashford assets!"
The Dons rose from their seats, raising their glasses in a unanimous toast to Enzo and Adeline.
Beside her, Enzo reached under the table, finding Adeline’s hand and squeezing it tight. He leaned in close to her ear, his hot breath brushing against her skin.
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"You stole the room, little bird," he whispered with dark pride.
"I learned from the best," she smiled, leaning into his shoulder.
