Chapter 3 - THE COMMISSION TABLE
The Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was illuminated by dim, amber wall sconces. In the center of the vast, carpeted room sat a heavy, dark-oak conference table surrounded by twelve leather armchairs.
Sitting at the table were the heads of the most dangerous organized crime families in the Midwest.
At the head sat Victor Rossi, a eighty-year-old mafia patriarch whose word carried the weight of law across three states. To his right sat Julian Ashford—Camilla’s father—a wealthy, ruthless man in his late fifties with slicked-back gray hair, a manicured beard, and eyes burning with unbridled rage.
Beside Julian stood Camilla, wearing a fresh lace dress, her eyes swollen from crying, playing the part of a traumatized, innocent victim for the assembled bosses.
The massive brass doors at the back of the room swung open with a booming thud.
Enzo Marchetti walked into the room.
He wore a tailored midnight-blue suit, his hair swept back, his dark eyes surveying the room with absolute disdain. Walking half a step behind his right shoulder was Dante Moretti.
Walking to his left, dressed in a simple, elegant dark-green velvet dress that Enzo’s personal tailor had delivered to her twenty minutes ago, was Adeline Croft. Her right arm was neatly bandaged under her lace sleeve, her posture straight, though her heart was hammering against her chest like a war drum.
"Look at him!" Julian Ashford roared, slamming his fist onto the oak table, standing up. "He brings his little street-whore into the high chamber! He parade her in front of the Commission after breaking our sacred treaty!"
Enzo didn't accelerate his pace. He walked casually to the empty chair at the opposite end of the table, pulled it out, and looked at Adeline.
"Sit," Enzo murmured gently.
Adeline hesitated for a microsecond, feeling the predatory gazes of eleven mob bosses locking onto her like sniper rifles. She smoothed her skirt and sat down in the high-backed leather chair.
Enzo did not sit. He stood behind her chair, placing both of his large, strong hands on the leather backrest, framing her like a protective shield.
"Julian," Enzo said smoothly, his tone conversational. "Your voice is too loud for a room this size. Tone it down before I have Dante remove your tongue."
"You arrogant bastard!" Julian spat, pointing a trembling finger at Enzo. "You publicly humiliated my daughter! You broke an engagement that was sealed with four hundred million dollars in port assets! You threw my blood out into the street for a ninety-dollar-a-day servant!"
Old Victor Rossi raised a heavy, spotted hand, signaling for silence. The room went instantly quiet.
"Enzo," Rossi rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. "You know the laws of the Commission. An engagement between major families is not a personal matter. It is a treaty. To break it without the consent of this board requires a justification of blood or treason. Do you have such a justification?"
Enzo rested his chin slightly, looking down at Julian Ashford with a look of supreme amusement.
"I do," Enzo said.
Julian scoffed. "He's lying! He broke it because he's sleeping with the maid! He’s been keeping her in his house for two weeks, building a file to hand over to the federal prosecutors!"
Julian turned to the other bosses, pulling a thick Manila envelope from his leather folder.
"Three days ago," Julian continued, throwing the file onto the center of the table, "an encrypted signal was sent from the Marchetti estate directly to the regional office of the FBI. The signal contained the shipping manifests for Sector Four! My sources inside the federal court confirmed that an informant named 'Croft' was listed on the warrant application!"
The room shifted. Leather chairs creaked as the assembled bosses leaned forward, their eyes turning lethal as they stared at Adeline.
In the mafia world, cruelty could be excused. Greed could be negotiated. But an informant was a death sentence.
Adeline felt the blood drain from her face. "That... that isn't true! I don't even have access to a computer in the mansion! I clean bedrooms!"
"Shut up, girl!" Julian barked. "You were nursing student at Northwestern! Your uncle was a state trooper in Illinois! You were planted in the Marchetti house to bring down the port deal!"
Adeline looked up at Enzo, her eyes filled with frantic, terrified innocence. "Enzo... I swear to you on my grandmother's memory, I never spoke to the police. I don't know anything about shipping manifests!"
Enzo didn't look down at her. His hands remained steady on her chair.
"Dante," Enzo said quietly.
Dante stepped forward, pulling a metallic silver laptop from his briefcase, opening it, and sliding it across the polished table until it stopped directly in front of Old Victor Rossi.
"On that screen," Enzo explained, "is the digital forensic trace of the signal sent three days ago."
Julian’s eyes flickered with a sudden, microscopic trace of anxiety. "What is this nonsense? My IT team verified the IP address!"
"Your IT team verified what you paid them to verify, Julian," Enzo said coldly. "The signal didn't originate from Adeline Croft's staff quarters. It originated from a satellite router installed in the guest house."
Enzo gestured toward the screen.
"The IP address belongs to Camilla Ashford's personal tablet," Enzo revealed, his voice echoing with devastating authority. "And the recipient wasn't the FBI. It was the Department of Homeland Security's anti-smuggling division."
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the ballroom.
Camilla turned deathly pale, gasping as she reached for her father’s arm. "Papa... no... I... I didn't—"
"Silence!" Old Victor Rossi roared, his old voice suddenly filled with terrifying power. He leaned over the laptop, reading the decrypted log files.
"Why would your daughter send our shipping manifests to Homeland Security, Julian?" Rossi asked, his yellowed eyes turning onto the Ashford patriarch like twin gun barrels.
"She... she wouldn't!" Julian stammered, sweat breaking out across his forehead. "It's a fake! Marchetti fabricated the logs!"
"Camilla sent them," Enzo explained smoothly, "because she realized two weeks ago that I was conducting an internal audit of Sector Four. She knew that once the merger went through, my accountants would discover that the Ashford family had been stealing twenty percent of the cartel's pharmaceutical shipments and selling them on the black market under my name."
Enzo leaned forward over Adeline's chair, his dark eyes locking onto Julian.
"She tried to frame my staff," Enzo continued. "She tried to poison Mrs. Eleanor Vance tonight because Mrs. Vance’s late husband held the original land deeds to the Sector Four warehouses. And when Adeline caught her in the act, Camilla whipped her like an animal to silence her."
Enzo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black flash drive, tossing it onto the table beside the laptop.
"On that drive," Enzo said, "are the full wiretaps from Camilla’s phone for the last seven days. Including her call to her father at six p.m. tonight, where she explicitly discussed framing the new maid so they could force me into a marriage before the audit completed."
Julian Ashford collapsed back into his leather chair, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Old Victor Rossi closed the laptop with a heavy, final CLACK.
The old Don looked up at Enzo, then down at Adeline, who sat frozen in her chair, her hand resting over her bandaged arm.
"The Ashford family has committed treason against the Commission," Rossi declared, his voice cold and absolute. "Their assets in Sector Four are forfeited to the Marchetti family. Effective immediately."
Rossi looked at Julian and Camilla. "You have two hours to leave Chicago. If you are found within three state lines by sunrise... Dante Moretti has my full permission to hunt you down."
Camilla burst into hysterical sobs, dragging her father out of the room as two heavy guards escorted them toward the side exit.
The other bosses slowly stood up, nodding respectfully to Enzo before filing out of the ballroom, leaving Enzo, Adeline, and Dante alone in the vast, empty space.
Adeline let out a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders collapsing as the adrenaline began to fade.
"You knew," she whispered, turning her head to look up at Enzo. "You knew before we even left the house. You knew Camilla was the informant."
Enzo walked around her chair, stepping in front of her. He reached down, taking her small, soft hand in his large, warm palm, gently pulling her up to a standing position.
"I knew," Enzo admitted softly.
"Then why did you bring me here?" she asked, searching his dark eyes. "Why subject me to this?"
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Enzo looked down at her, his fingers tightening slightly around hers, his eyes burning with an intense, fierce protection that made her breath catch in her throat.
"Because I needed them to see you," Enzo whispered. "I needed every boss in this city to know that you are under my shadow now. And if anyone ever raises a hand to you again... they won't just face my anger. They will face my war."
