Chapter 3 - The St. Regis Ambush
The grand ballroom of the St. Regis Hotel in Manhattan was bathed in the dim light of crystal chandeliers. Heavy velvet curtains covered the massive windows overlooking Fifth Avenue.
Outside, fifty armed bodyguards from four different crime syndicates patrolled the hallways, their weapons concealed beneath tailored coats. The air inside the ballroom was thick with tension, cigars, and the deadly quiet of men who ruled the underworld.
Sitting at a massive round marble table were the bosses of the Five Families.
At the head of the table sat Dominic Marino—a broad-shouldered, angry man in his late thirties, his knuckles white as he slammed a heavy brass pistol onto the tablecloth.
"I don't want to hear your lies, Costa!" Dominic roared, pointing a finger across the table at Gabriel. "My father is hooked up to a ventilator in intensive care! My docks are burning ash! You set us up so you could swallow our shipping lines without paying the dowry!"
Gabriel sat casually in his high-backed leather chair at the opposite side of the table. He was impeccably dressed in a charcoal three-piece suit, his hands resting calmly on the armrests. He looked completely unbothered by the gun on the table.
"Sit down, Dominic," Gabriel said smoothly. "You sound like a child throwing a tantrum before you even hear the evidence."
"Evidence?!" Dominic sneered. "I have the security footage!"
The side doors of the ballroom opened softly.
Clara Bennett walked into the room, wearing a tailored black skirt suit, her hair styled into an elegant French twist. She carried a sleek silver briefcase. Beside her walked Mateo, holding a battered, bloody Vincent Ross by the collar of his ruined suit.
The bosses around the table shifted uncomfortably, their eyes locking onto the legendary female fixer of the Costa family.
Clara walked straight to the center of the marble table, completely ignoring the armed men standing in the shadows. She set her silver briefcase down and opened it, pulling out a thick stack of printed financial ledgers and a USB drive.
"Gentlemen," Clara announced, her voice echoing clearly off the high ornate ceiling. "My name is Clara Bennett, Chief Executive Officer of Costa Global Holdings. Five hours ago, an arson attack took place at the Elizabeth docks. I have spent the last three hours analyzing the digital footprints left behind by the perpetrators."
Dominic Marino scoffed. "We don't care about your corporate babble, sweet heart—"
"Shut your mouth, Dominic, and let her speak," growled Don Moretti, the oldest boss at the table. "Clara Bennett's books have never lied to this council."
Clara gave a polite nod to Don Moretti. She plugged the USB drive into the room’s projection system, casting a large financial diagram onto the white wall behind them.
"At 11:15 p.m. last night, Truck #402 left the Costa depot," Clara explained, pointing her laser pointer at the glowing numbers. "However, the fuel used in the arson was not standard commercial gasoline. It was industrial-grade thermite mixture—a substance manufactured exclusively by Marino Chemical Logistics, a subsidiary owned personally by Dominic Marino."
Dominic’s face instantly drained of color. "That's... that's a lie!"
"Is it?" Clara asked, clicking to the next slide. "Here are the bank wire transfers executed at 9:00 p.m. yesterday from a Swiss account registered to Vincent Ross. Two million dollars was transferred directly into an offshore account in Grand Cayman owned by... Dominic Marino."
The entire room erupted into furious shouts.
The other family bosses stood up from their chairs, their hands instinctively reaching inside their jackets for their sidearms.
Gabriel slowly stood up from his chair, his tall frame dominating the head of the table. He looked down at Dominic Marino with cold, lethal satisfaction.
"You conspired with my corrupt uncle to steal from your own father," Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a terrifying register. "You burned your own docks to frame me, trigger a war, and seize control of the Marino syndicate before your father could sign the merger treaty with me."
Vincent Ross, kneeling on the floor near Clara’s feet, sobbed hysterically. "Dominic promised me thirty percent of the shipping lines! He said Gabriel was soft! He said Gabriel was distracted by his secretary!"
Dominic Marino panicked. He grabbed his brass pistol from the table and aimed it straight at Clara’s chest!
"YOU BITCH!" Dominic screamed.
BANG!
A deafening gunshot echoed through the ballroom.
Before Dominic could pull his trigger, Gabriel had already drawn a sleek black weapon from his shoulder holster and fired a single, lightning-fast shot directly through Dominic’s right hand.
Dominic shrieked in pain, dropping his gun as blood splattered across the white tablecloth.
Within seconds, Mateo and four Costa bodyguards tackled Dominic to the floor, disarming him and pinning his arms behind his back.
Gabriel didn't even look at the bleeding man on the floor. He rushed around the table, putting himself between Clara and any remaining danger, pulling her close to his side. His hands held her shoulders tightly, checking her for any injuries.
"Are you hurt?" Gabriel asked frantically, his cool composure completely shattering.
"I'm fine, Gabriel," Clara breathed out, her heart racing as she looked into his panicked dark eyes. "The numbers don't lie."
Gabriel let out a ragged breath, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side in front of the entire underworld council.
Don Moretti stood up, looking at the bloody scene, then at Gabriel and Clara.
"Dominic Marino will be stripped of his title and handed over to the Marino council for treason," Don Moretti declared solemnly. "The Costa family is cleared of all charges. The peace holds."
Don Moretti paused, his sharp eyes looking at Gabriel’s arm wrapped tightly around Clara’s waist.
"And what about the engagement between the Costa family and Isabella Marino?" Don Moretti asked.
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Gabriel looked down at Clara. He took her small hand in his, raising her fingers to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently in front of every syndicate leader in New York.
"The engagement with Isabella Marino is officially terminated," Gabriel announced clearly, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "Isabella will receive twenty million dollars in compensation for her family's losses. But as for me... I am marrying the woman who built my empire."
