Chapter 7 - Total Obliteration
Rebuilding a life meant eliminating every threat that stood in the way of our future.
The Moretti syndicate had crossed a line when they fired upon my family. In the underworld, there is a simple law: an eye for an eye, a bloodline for a bloodline.
Three days after the attack on the safehouse, I summoned the leaders of the five major crime families to a neutral site—the top floor of the Grand Empire Hotel.
The room was heavy with tension. Armed guards lined the walls, hands resting on concealed weapons. At the head of the long conference table sat Viktor Moretti, a ruthless, arrogant man in his late fifties who believed my recent family drama had made me weak.
I walked into the room alone, wearing a bespoke suit, carrying nothing but a simple leather briefcase.
"Marcus," Viktor sneered, pouring himself a glass of vodka. "Surprised you had the nerve to show up. I heard you've been busy playing daddy to some street rat from Maple Row."
The other bosses chuckled nervously, but nobody met my eyes.
I placed the briefcase on the table, opened the latches, and turned it toward Viktor.
Inside were stack upon stack of deeds, bank routing numbers, and encrypted flash drives containing every illegal transaction, wiretap, and extortion file the Moretti family had accumulated over thirty years.
Viktor's smile vanished. "Where did you get this?"
"Your underboss was surprisingly cheap to buy," I said smoothly, taking a seat at the head of the table. "As of 8:00 AM this morning, every asset, every shipment, and every port contract belonging to the Moretti family has been seized or liquidated by my shell corporations."
Viktor slammed his hands on the table, standing up. "You arrogant bastard! You think paper can stop me? I have fifty men surrounding this hotel right now!"
"Correction," I said, checking my watch. "You had fifty men. Silas took care of them ten minutes ago."
Before Viktor could draw his weapon, the heavy double doors opened. Silas stepped inside, wiping a speck of blood from his cuff, and handed me a quiet nod.
Viktor looked around the room, panicking, expecting the other bosses to stand with him. But they all looked away, knowing that Viktor was already a dead man walking.
"You touched my home, Viktor," I said softly, my voice cold enough to freeze the air in the room. "You put my sons in danger."
"Marcus... wait, let's talk about this—" Viktor pleaded, his bravado instantly crumbling.
"There is nothing to talk about."
I stood up, adjusting my cuffs. As I walked out of the room, I gave Silas a single, subtle nod.
May you like
Behind me, a single silenced gunshot cut through the silence of the penthouse.
By nightfall, the Moretti syndicate was no more. The remaining crime bosses signed peace treaties on my terms, agreeing to absolute loyalty. The underworld was unified, controlled completely under my iron grip—ensuring that no one would ever dare challenge the Vance name again.
