Noah Morgan sat with his eyes closed before glowing candles on his chocolate cake

"You can't send my daughter away!" Kevin shrieked, scrambling forward on his hands and knees, ignoring the guns pointed at his chest. "Claire, she's just a kid! She didn't know what she was doing!"

"She knew exactly what she was doing," Claire said, watching coldly as a guard grabbed Madison by the arm and dragged the screaming, thrashing twelve-year-old toward the house. "And you knew exactly what you were doing when you skimmed my accounts."

Richard finally managed to stand up, leaning heavily against the remaining, unbroken frame of the lawn-game rack. He looked older, broken, the illusion of his patriarchal power entirely shattered under the bright summer sun.

"Claire," Richard said, his voice trembling, attempting a conciliatory, paternal tone. "Listen to me. We can fix this. You've proven your point. You are in charge. I see that now. But you can't kill your own brother over money. It violates the omertà. It violates the family code."

"The family code states that anyone who steals from the master ledger forfeits their life," Claire recited, her American accent flawless and precise. "You wrote that rule yourself, Richard, twenty years ago when you executed Uncle Paul."

Richard swallowed hard, his rosy face turning a sickly shade of white. "That was different. That was an active betrayal to a rival syndicate."

"Theft is theft," Claire said. She looked down at the black expense card still in her hand. "Kevin didn't just steal money. He stole my trust. He allowed his daughter to humiliate my son on his birthday. He struck me in the face."

"I'm sorry!" Kevin sobbed, his forehead pressing against the stone patio. "Claire, I swear to God, I'll pay it back! I'll work the docks! I'll do whatever you want! Just please don't kill me!"

"I'm not going to kill you, Kevin," Claire said softly.

Kevin’s head snapped up, a frantic, desperate hope shining in his tear-filled eyes. "You... you aren't?"

"No," Claire said. "Killing you would be too quick. It wouldn't reimburse the two million dollars you stole."

"Then what are you going to do?" Richard asked, fear lacing every syllable.

"I'm stripping you both of the Morgan name," Claire announced, her voice carrying absolute authority to the silent, terrified guests still hiding on the lawn. "All your assets, your cars, your homes—they belong to the syndicate. Kevin, you will be placed on a cargo freighter headed for Southeast Asia tomorrow morning. You will work in the lower hull until the two million is paid off. It should take you about thirty years."