Chapter 39
Later that afternoon, Vincent stood on his private stone balcony, looking out over his vast, undisputed territory. The Caruso syndicate had transitioned into a monolithic, perfectly oiled machine, dominating the eastern seaboard with terrifying efficiency and newfound corporate legitimacy. Silas stepped onto the balcony, holding a secure tablet. "All operations are running at peak efficiency, Boss. The European families have sent tributes, and the national syndicates remain terrified into absolute submission." Vincent nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He adjusted his luxury wristwatch, the ink of his negative-space hand tattoos catching the bright sunlight. "Fear is a necessary tool, Silas," Vincent murmured, his voice a low, vibrating hum of absolute certainty. "But a lasting empire is built on unshakeable foundations. We have purged the traitors. We have secured the bloodline. Our borders are impenetrable." He looked down at the courtyard, where Evelyn was laughing, holding Clara's hand as they inspected a rosebush. The sheer, apocalyptic violence Vincent had wielded to get to this point was immense, but as he looked at his family, he felt absolutely no remorse. He was an apex predator who had successfully protected his pack.
