Chapter 26 - The Syndicate's High Table
Adrian decided to take the fight to the only place Victoria actually respected.
The Syndicate High Table.
It was a secretive council of the five most powerful crime families in the Midwest.
They regulated the borders, the truces, and the blood money that flowed through the city.
Victoria had gone to them, claiming Adrian was unlawfully holding her children and her rightful territory.
The meeting was held at midnight, in the private basement of an upscale downtown restaurant.
Adrian wore his darkest suit, looking like a king walking to war.
I walked right beside him, wearing a sharp black blazer and the emerald engagement ring he gave me.
"You don't have to be here, Nia," Adrian whispered as we descended the heavy concrete stairs.
"I am the mother of those boys," I replied firmly.
"I belong in this room as much as you do."
We walked into the dimly lit room.
Five older men sat around a massive circular table, smoking cigars and drinking expensive scotch.
Victoria was standing at the far end of the room, looking absolutely triumphant.
"Adrian," the head of the table, a man named Russo, greeted with a nod.
"And you brought your... civilian."
"She is my fiancée, and the matriarch of my house," Adrian corrected smoothly, pulling out a chair for me.
Victoria rolled her eyes, stepping into the center of the room.
"Let's skip the introductions," Victoria demanded, her voice sharp and arrogant.
"By the laws of this Syndicate, a wife who returns from exile is entitled to half of her husband's holdings."
"If he refuses, I take my children and I sell my story to the federal government."
The five men at the table murmured among themselves, clearly swayed by the threat of federal involvement.
"She is legally a ghost," Adrian countered, his voice booming with authority.
"She abandoned her bloodline during a time of war, which is treason under Syndicate law."
"She doesn't want the boys," I spoke up, my voice cutting through the heavy, smoke-filled air.
Everyone in the room turned to look at me, shocked that the 'civilian' dared to speak.
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I didn't flinch.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a thick, black folder.
