Chapter 5
The silence in the dining room was absolute, a heavy vacuum waiting to be filled by the inevitable violence. The warm golden highlights from the chandeliers illuminated the sharp, predatory focus on Adrian’s angular face. The slap he had endured was already forgotten, replaced by the strategic calculus of a man who realized his entire kingdom was under siege from within.
"Elena," Adrian said, his deep voice barely a whisper, yet resonating with absolute authority. "Will you assist me?"
Elena turned her expressive eyes toward him, the trembling in her hand subsiding as she recognized the quiet strength returning to his posture. She stepped behind his wheelchair, her hands gripping the rubber handles firmly.
"Where are we going, Mr. Moretti?" she asked, her voice steady and clear despite the terrifying circumstances.
"Are we not going to greet our guests in the VIP room?" Adrian replied, his gaze never leaving the heavy oak doors.
"You can't go in there!" Victor suddenly yelled, scrambling up from the upholstered chair. He stepped forward, raising his hands in a frantic, placating gesture. "Uncle, wait. Let me handle this. You’re injured. You need to rest."
"Do I look like a man who requires rest, Victor?" Adrian asked, the coldness in his eyes pinning his nephew to the floor. "Or do I look like a man who is about to unearth a rat in his own house?"
Victor swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. "There’s no one in there you want to see. It’s just... it’s just some associates from the west side. They are waiting for me to finish the dinner."
"If they are merely waiting for you, why did you look to them for salvation when I asked you a simple question?" Adrian challenged, his tone dropping an octave. He raised his uninjured hand, gesturing forward. "Push the chair, Elena."
Elena pushed the wheelchair forward. The rubber wheels glided smoothly over the polished floor. As they moved, the capos and dinner guests scrambled out of their way, pulling their chairs back to create a wide, unobstructed path toward the VIP doors.
Victor moved to block their path, his face pale with desperation. "Adrian, I swear to God, you don't want to open those doors. They made me an offer. I was just trying to protect the family!"
"Does protection usually involve a slap to the face of your boss?" Adrian asked, signaling for Elena to stop just a few feet from his nephew. He looked at the men sitting at the surrounding tables. "Carlo. Are you going to let this man stand in my way?"
Carlo, the older capo who had spoken earlier, stood up slowly. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, revealing the dark leather of a shoulder holster. "Move aside, Victor," Carlo rumbled.
May you like
Victor looked around the room, realizing that his grand display of dominance had failed entirely. The men were still loyal to the king, even if the king was in a wheelchair. Defeated, Victor stepped out of the path, his hands trembling.
"Open the doors, Elena," Adrian commanded quietly.
