Chapter 5
Bianca pressed her back against the wall, her eyes darting frantically toward the locked doors. The clean, bright lighting of the foyer offered no shadows to hide in. Everything was exposed.
"We did it for the family, Vittorio," Bianca pleaded, her voice trembling. "You've been distracted since your wife died. The business was suffering. We had to make alliances to protect the Greco name!"
"You protect the name by selling it to the highest bidder?" Vittorio asked, his tone dripping with measured disgust. "You protect the name by throwing a three-year-old child onto the floor?"
Vittorio turned to his head of security, a broad-shouldered man named Marcus. "Take the boy to the private suite upstairs. Have Mrs. Gable prepare a warm meal for him. Stay with him until I come up."
"Yes, Boss," Marcus said respectfully. He stepped behind the wheelchair and gently rolled Nico away from the wreckage. Vittorio watched his son disappear into the elevator, ensuring the boy was entirely removed from the violence that was about to unfold.
Once the elevator doors chimed shut, Vittorio returned his attention to the couple on the floor.
"Get up," Vittorio commanded.
Owen struggled to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall. His jaw was visibly misaligned, and his expensive suit was covered in dust and blood. Bianca slowly stood beside him, clutching her bruised cheek, her luxurious dress torn at the hem.
"What are you going to do to us?" Owen asked, his voice shaking with undeniable terror.
"I am going to give you exactly what you asked for," Vittorio said, slowly pacing in front of them. "You wanted to run the operations. You wanted to make the hard choices. So, I am going to let you explain your choices to the entire Chicago Commission."
Bianca gasped. "No! Vittorio, please! The Commission will execute us if they find out about the Russian deals! We kept it off the books!"
"Exactly," Vittorio said, a cold, dangerous smile touching the corners of his lips. "You stole from the collective. You betrayed the oath. And you did it while hiding behind my name."
"You're sending us to our deaths!" Owen yelled, panic overriding his pain.
"I am sending you to justice," Vittorio corrected him softly. "You thought my grief made me blind. You thought my son made me weak. You forgot who built this empire. You forgot the blood on my hands."
He raised his right hand, snapping his fingers. Four bodyguards immediately stepped forward, grabbing Owen and Bianca by the arms.
"Take them to the warehouse in the South Side," Vittorio ordered, his voice echoing off the marble. "Lock them in the holding cells. Call the elders. Tell them we are holding a tribunal at midnight."
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"Vittorio, please! I'm your sister!" Bianca screamed as she was dragged toward the service exit. "You can't do this! Have mercy!"
"Mercy," Vittorio whispered to the empty air as her screams faded down the corridor, "is a privilege reserved for family. And you stopped being family the moment you touched my son."
