Chapter 7 - The Florist’s Strike
The simple act of Olivia standing caused the shouting in the ballroom to slowly taper off.
There was something compelling about her quiet, absolute composure amidst twenty dangerous men.
"Gentlemen," Olivia’s voice rang clear, melodic, and completely devoid of fear.
Don Antonio sneered. "Sit down, girl. You have no vote here."
"I may have no vote, Don Antonio," Olivia said smoothly, opening the leather folder on the table. "But I have eyes. And as a florist, I know a rotten root when I smell one."
She pulled out a stack of financial documents and slid them across the table toward the senior Elder of the Council, a eighty-year-old mafia patriarch named Don Bernardo.
"What is this trash?" Marco shouted, reaching to grab the papers, but Gabriel’s hand clamped around Marco’s wrist like an iron vise, forcing him back into his chair.
Don Bernardo put on his reading glasses, scanning the documents. His thick eyebrows slowly pulled together into a deep, furious scowl.
"These are shipping manifests from the Brooklyn docks from the past eighteen months," Olivia explained, her voice ringing across the quiet room. "Don Antonio claims his alliance brings security to the Duca family. But these records show that Don Antonio has been skimming fifteen percent of all Duca cargo before it ever leaves the harbor, funneling the money into a private account in the Cayman Islands under Marco Duca's name."
The room went dead silent.
Marco turned pale as a sheet. Don Antonio’s hand tightened around his gold cane until his knuckles turned white.
"She's lying!" Donatella shrieked. "She forged those!"
"They are verified by the harbor master's private ledger," Gabriel added, his voice cold as the grave. "The same harbor master Marco thought he paid off last night."
Don Bernardo looked up from the papers, his ancient eyes fixed on Marco and Antonio with absolute disgust.
"Treason," Bernardo whispered. "Stealing from the Council while proposing a marriage alliance to cover the theft."
Bernardo stood up, holding his wooden gavel. "The motion for no confidence against Gabriel Duca is dismissed. Marco Duca is hereby stripped of his rank, his assets, and his place in this family."
"No!" Marco screamed, reaching for a weapon inside his coat.
Before his hand could even touch his holster, four of Gabriel’s guards tackled Marco to the floor, disarming him in a second and forcing his face against the cold marble.
Don Antonio sank back into his chair, looking suddenly old, defeated, and broken. Donatella stared at Olivia in sheer horror, realizing that the "penniless florist" had just completely dismantled her family's power in less than five minutes.
Gabriel stepped forward, looking down at the Council.
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"My family has made its choice," Gabriel declared, taking Olivia’s hand and bringing it to his lips in front of the entire assembly. "Olivia Brooks is the lady of the Duca estate. Anyone who challenges her challenges me."
Not a single man in the room dared to speak.
