Chapter 2 - The Council of Vultures
Inside the grand dining hall, twenty-three high-ranking captains and lieutenants of the Ashford syndicate sat around the massive mahogany table. Rain lashed against the high stained-glass windows as thunder shook the estate.
Margaret stood at the head of the table, resting her hands on the carved wood.
"My nephew Gabriel has been missing for over fifteen hours," Margaret announced, her voice echoing with artificial sorrow. "Our informants in the city suggest he was ambushed by Delaney enforcers near the river docks."
Marcus Delaney, sitting across from her, feigned surprise. "Now hold on, Margaret. The Delaney family had a truce with Gabriel. He was working on a deal to legitimize our joint shipping lines."
"A truce my nephew foolishly trusted!" Margaret countered, slamming her palm on the table. "Gabriel was soft! He wanted to turn this organization into a charity! He refused to enforce our protection contracts, and now he is dead!"
A murmur of tense agreement rippled through the room among the older captains who resented Gabriel’s push toward legal commerce.
"Under our family charter," Margaret continued smoothly, "in the absence of a confirmed head, authority reverts to the elder council. I propose we declare a state of war against all rival territories and consolidate our assets immediately."
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From the shadows near the kitchen entrance, Evelyn watched through a narrow crack in the door. She held a silver tray, pretending to wait for beverage orders.
She knew the truth. Gabriel wasn't dead in the river. He was trapped twenty feet beneath their feet in the flooded storm shelter, slowly drowning while his own aunt seized his empire.
