Chapter 9 - Kneeling Before Dawn
The eastern sky through the high, broken windows of the meatpacking plant was turning a pale, cold blue. The rain had finally stopped, leaving a quiet, dripping stillness across the city.
Roman looked at Dominic, then at Maya. He knew there was no escape. He knew the rules of the world they lived in.
“Just make it quick, Dominic,” Roman said, his voice dropping into a flat, exhausted acceptance. “For the sake of what we used to be.”
Dominic closed his eyes for a brief second, the memory of their youth—running the streets of the West Side, sharing a single coat in the winter—flashing through his mind. The pain of the betrayal was deeper than any physical wound Roman’s men had inflicted.
He raised his weapon, his hand steady, but before he could pull the trigger, Maya placed her hand over his wrist.
Dominic looked at her, confused. “Maya?”
“He doesn't get the mercy of a quick death, Dominic,” Maya said, her voice carrying a cold, brilliant wisdom that made Roman shudder. “A dead traitor becomes a martyr for the old crews who still resent the transition. A living traitor, broken and exposed, is a permanent monument to your power.”
She stepped closer to Roman, looking down at him with an indifference that was more terrifying than a bullet.
“You are going to sign the full transfer of your personal assets to the Bellandi Foundation,” Maya said. “Every dock house, every shell company, every offshore account. Then, you are going to leave this country. You will live in a small town in the interior of Brazil, under a name I choose, under surveillance that my network maintains. If you ever speak the name Bellandi, if you ever step within a thousand miles of a port, the coordinates of your house will be delivered to the Moretti family, who are very eager to find someone to blame for their recent financial losses.”
Roman stared at her, his mouth open. She wasn't just killing him; she was erasing him. She was stripping away his name, his wealth, his legacy, leaving him a ghost in a foreign land.
“Sign the papers, Roman,” Dominic said, lowering his weapon, his voice filled with a profound, final indifference. “Or let my wife handle the alternative. You’ve seen what she can do before dawn.”
Roman looked at the silver tablet Maya placed on his lap. His hands shook as he pressed his thumb against the biometric scanner, signing away the empire he had tried to steal.
May you like
When it was done, Dominic turned his back on him, walking toward the exit. He didn't look back. The brother he had loved had died three weeks ago in the trunk of a black sedan.
Maya walked beside him, her hand slipped securely into the pocket of his overcoat, their fingers interlacing. As they stepped out into the crisp morning air, the first rays of the sun were breaking through the Chicago fog, painting the river in streaks of brilliant gold.
