Crispin opened his gift only for his cousin Aldric to dump a box of greasy napkins and rotting scraps across his chest

The grand salon on the ground floor of the mansion was vast, illuminated by the cold, dying light of dusk filtering through tall arched windows and the harsh overhead glow of the central chandelier.

On the Persian rug in front of the carved marble fireplace, Osbert Bellamere sat on his knees, his hands still bound tightly behind his back. Beside him, Aldric lay slumped on his side, his shoulder and hip wrapped in crude field dressings that were already soaked through with dark red blood. Aldric was groaning softly, shivering with shock, his rosy skin drained to a sickly, ashen gray.

Surrounding them in a tight, impenetrable semi-circle stood eighteen men: the senior capos, the harbor captains, and the trusted lieutenants of the Bellamere syndicate. None of them spoke. None of them looked at Osbert with pity. In their eyes was only the cold, unyielding judgment of men who lived and died by the code of absolute loyalty.

The heavy double doors swung open.

Romina walked down the center aisle. She had not changed her suit, though a faint smudge of black powder marked the cuff of her right sleeve. Her dark overcoat hung over her shoulders like an imperial mantle, and her signet ring caught the chandelier light with a dull, predatory gleam.

She stopped three paces from her uncle.

"Osbert," Romina said softly.

The old man lifted his head slowly. The arrogance, the smug condescension that had defined him on the terrace three hours ago, was completely dead. He looked like what he was: a broken, bankrupt old schemer who had gambled his family’s bloodline and lost everything.

"Romina..." Osbert whispered, his dry lips trembling. "Spare Aldric. He’s just a boy... he didn't know what Monticello was planning. Punish me, but let my son live."

"He is thirty-eight years old, Osbert," Romina replied, her voice cutting through the silent room like a razor. "He dumped garbage on a seven-year-old child and shoved a five-year-old girl to the ground. Then he wore a transponder that guided assassins into my house. He is not a boy. He is an infection."

Aldric whimpered from the carpet, rolling his head toward his cousin. "Romina... please... I’m family... we have the same blood..."

"Blood is cheap, Aldric," Romina said, not even looking down at him. "Loyalty is expensive. And you sold yours for twenty cents on the dollar."

She turned her eyes to the assembled capos.

"From this hour forward," Romina declared, her voice ringing off the high plaster ceilings with biblical authority, "Osbert Bellamere and Aldric Bellamere are stripped of their names. Their shares in the shipping consortium are forfeited to the family trust. Their properties in Manhattan and Palm Beach are seized to pay the pensions of the men who fell defending this estate today."

She looked back down at Osbert.

"You will not die today, uncle. Death is too clean an exit for a coward. Tomorrow morning, a private transport will take you and your crippled son to our northern quarry compound in upstate New York. You will live in the caretaker’s cottage under permanent armed guard. You will never see this coast again. You will never touch a phone, a ledger, or a dollar that does not come from my hand."

Osbert closed his eyes, two tears cutting a path through the grime on his weathered cheeks. He bowed his head until his forehead touched the Persian rug in silent, total submission.

"Giacomo," Romina called.

"Boss."

"Clear the garbage off my floor," she said.

Four capos stepped forward, hoisting Osbert to his feet and dragging the groaning Aldric out of the salon through the rear service exit.

The remaining capos stood at attention, their heads bowed slightly toward Romina as she walked to the center of the room.

"Double the harbor patrols tonight," Romina ordered, looking at her senior lieutenant. "Tell the crews in Providence and Boston that the Monticello syndicate is now an open target. Every warehouse, every truck, every boat they own on this coast belongs to the Bellamere family by sunrise."