Chapter 9
The following afternoon, the sky over the city was a bruised, heavy grey, mirroring the somber mood blanketing the Ashcroft estate. The grand parlor, usually reserved for lavish galas and political fundraisers, had been transformed into a majestic viewing room. Massive arrangements of white lilies and deep red roses banked the walls, their heavy scent filling the air. In the center of the room, resting on a velvet-draped catafalque, was a polished mahogany casket.
Mason Graves was being sent off with the honors of an underworld king.
The room was packed with hundreds of made men, capos, and associates, all dressed in sharp black suits. They stood in rigid silence, paying their respects to the man who had taken a bullet for the boss.
Audra stood at the front of the room, closest to the casket. She was no longer wearing the sophisticated black maid dress. Instead, Gideon had arranged for a tailor to arrive at dawn. She wore an elegant, long-sleeved black silk mourning dress that draped beautifully over her slender, graceful proportions. Her dark hair was pinned up elegantly, and she wore Mason's wedding ring on a delicate gold chain over her heart. She looked like a queen of sorrow, commanding absolute respect from the dangerous men surrounding her.
Gideon stood silently at her side. He wore his tailored dark three-piece suit, a black overcoat resting heavily on his powerful shoulders. His angular face was an impenetrable mask of stoic grief, his cold, observant eyes watching the crowd.
"Are you holding up, Audra?" Gideon asked softly, leaning in slightly so only she could hear his deep, measured voice.
"I am," Audra answered quietly, not taking her eyes off the polished wood of the casket. "I never imagined he would have a send-off like this. He would have been so proud."
"Did he not earn every ounce of this respect?" Gideon inquired.
The heavy parlor doors opened, and a murmur rippled through the crowd. Victor Blackwell stepped into the room, flanked by six of his top enforcers. The tension instantly spiked, the air turning thick and volatile. Gideon’s men subtly reached for the weapons concealed beneath their jackets.
Victor looked older, his face drawn tight with humiliation. He walked down the center aisle, stopping a few feet away from Gideon and Audra. He looked at the casket, then looked directly at Gideon.
"I have come to pay my respects," Victor said gruffly. "And to deliver the signed contracts for the western routes. You have what you wanted, Gideon. Now release my daughter."
Gideon did not reach out to take the envelope Victor was holding. He simply stared at the older boss with cold, unwavering eyes.
"Do you believe a piece of paper buys absolution in my house?" Gideon asked, his voice echoing loudly in the silent room.
"We had an agreement!" Victor hissed, taking a step forward.
Gideon’s jaw tightened. "Did I not say she would remain in my custody until the transition was complete?"
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"It is complete!" Victor demanded.
"Have I finished ensuring the safety of this widow?" Gideon asked, turning his head slowly to look at Audra, the artistic neck tattoo visible above his collar.
