Chapter 28
The Romano estate thrived in the following weeks, operating with a ruthless, unyielding efficiency under Alessandra's undisputed rule. The East Coast coalition was crumbling under relentless federal investigations, their leadership paralyzed and their assets frozen, exactly as she had engineered. Chicago was fully under her control, the remaining families terrified into submission by the surgical, bloodless removal of Vargas.
Alessandra sat in the grand dining room, reviewing the quarterly shipping reports. The crystal chandeliers cast a crisp, unforgiving light across the mahogany table. She wore a luxurious, deep sapphire dress today, the gold signet ring resting with heavy authority on her hand.
Silas entered the room, his demeanor calm and professional. "The ports are reporting record profits, Boss. The new tariffs are being processed without a single complaint from the Chicago factions."
"Excellent," Alessandra murmured, signing a document with a smooth, decisive stroke. "What is the status of the Montana compound?"
"Quiet," Silas replied. "Vincent, Francesca, and Bianca remain isolated. They have stopped attempting to bribe the guards. I believe the reality of their exile has finally set in."
Alessandra felt absolutely no pity for the family she had banished. They had earned their gilded cage. She placed the pen down and looked up at her underboss.
"And Mason?" she asked softly.
"He is exceeding expectations, Boss," Silas noted, a rare hint of approval in his voice. "He follows orders perfectly. He is respectful to Caleb, and he completes his training without complaint. The entitlement is gone. He is learning discipline."
"Bring him to me," Alessandra commanded.
A few minutes later, Mason stood nervously in the doorway of the dining room. He wore simple, clean clothes, his posture rigid and respectful. He didn't look like the bully who had kicked a four-year-old child; he looked like a soldier awaiting orders.
"Come here, Mason," Alessandra said, her voice firm but not unkind.
Mason walked slowly toward the table, keeping his eyes on the floor.
"Look at me," she instructed.
He raised his head, his blue eyes meeting her dark, intimidating gaze.
"You have worked hard these past few months," Alessandra stated, evaluating his progress with cold precision. "You have apologized to Caleb, and you have learned to follow the rules of this house. Do you understand why I punished you?"
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"Yes, Aunt Alessandra," Mason said quietly. "I was weak. I hurt someone smaller than me because I wanted to feel powerful. It was wrong."
Alessandra nodded slowly. The lesson had taken root.
