Chapter 10
The tension that had paralyzed the engagement dinner finally dissipated, replaced by the low, anxious murmurs of the remaining guests. Sensing the evening was irreversibly altered, the powerful syndicate members slowly began to rise from their ivory upholstered chairs. They offered quiet, respectful nods to Gideon before filing out of the luminous dining hall, eager to distance themselves from the impending fallout between the Mercer and Vance families.
Within minutes, the massive, opulent room was entirely empty of guests. The bright, airy lighting continued to cast a gentle golden warmth across the deserted tables and the low arrangements of cream roses.
Gideon stood alone with his mother and the brave housemaid.
"Will you help her to her suite, Mae?" Gideon asked softly, looking down at Esther, who was visibly exhausted by the ordeal.
"Right away, sir," Mae replied with a graceful nod. She stepped forward, gently offering her arm to the elderly woman. "Come along, Mrs. Mercer. Let's get you comfortable."
As Mae assisted Esther toward the private doors leading to the residential wing, Gideon watched them go. His angular face, usually a mask of impenetrable authority, softened with a rare, genuine gratitude. The movie-star handsome Mafia boss had built his life on power and intimidation, but tonight, a young woman in a maid's uniform had demonstrated a courage that surpassed his fiercest soldiers.
Gideon walked over to the nearest candelabra, absently adjusting a flickering ivory candle. He knew the peace of the evening was temporary. Juliette would run straight to her father, and the Vance syndicate would demand blood for the public humiliation of their daughter. The city would soon be engulfed in a violent, ruthless turf war.
The heavy doors of the dining hall clicked open again, and his lead capo stepped into the room. The man looked grim, holding a secure encrypted phone.
"Is the perimeter secured?" Gideon asked without turning around.
"It is, Boss," the capo replied. "Juliette’s car has left the property. But we just received word from our scouts downtown. The Vance family is mobilizing. They are pulling their men from the docks."
"Did we expect them to accept their dismissal quietly?" Gideon inquired, his voice dropping back into the cold, calculated register of a wartime general.
He turned around, his dark three-piece suit cutting an imposing silhouette against the bright, luminous background of the hall. He walked toward the capo, his polished leather shoes making slow, deliberate sounds against the floor.
"Are the strike teams ready?" Gideon asked.
"Fully armed and waiting for your command," the capo confirmed.
"Will we wait for them to strike our homes, or will we burn their warehouses to the ground before sunrise?" Gideon asked, a dark, terrifying determination settling into his perceptive eyes.
"We strike first," the capo nodded, understanding the rhetorical command.
May you like
Gideon adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, the small neck tattoo catching the golden chandelier light. He had protected his mother, and he had found a new, fiercely loyal ally in his household. Now, he was prepared to unleash hell to ensure his family's safety remained absolute.
"Shall we begin?" Gideon asked, stepping out of the bright dining hall and into the shadows of the impending war.
