Chapter 6 - Night of the Commission
The Grand Opera House was a magnificent, ninety-year-old monument of gold leaf, velvet curtains, and crystal chandeliers, located in the heart of the city’s high-society district.
Tonight, however, the opera house was closed to the public.
Dozens of black luxury sedans lined the private driveway. Heavily armed guards in expensive tuxedos patrolled the perimeter, checking the credentials of every guest. Inside the main auditorium, sitting in the front row of the golden balcony, were the five patriarchs of the city’s ruling syndicate families—The Archon Commission.
At the center of the stage stood Don Vincent Moretti.
He wore a dark tuxedo, his silver hair brushed back, addressing the four old men sitting in the shadows above him.
"Gentlemen," Vincent’s booming voice echoed through the empty hall. "For thirty years, the Romano family led this coalition. But Alessandro Romano has lost his mind. He has murdered my daughter Victoria in cold blood. He has raided my private estates. He is an unstable dog that must be put down for the safety of our profits."
The oldest patriarch, Don Carmine-Senior, leaned forward over the gilded balcony railing, his white hair gleaming under the spotlight. "These are heavy accusations, Vincent. Where is the proof that Alessandro killed your daughter?"
"I have witnesses!" Vincent lied smoothly, raising his hand toward his lieutenants. "My men recovered her blood-stained coat from his estate three hours ago! Alessandro is hiding in his fortress like a coward, hoarding the syndicate’s shared reserve funds! I motion that we declare war on the Romano family and divide his territories among the four remaining houses!"
"A motion requires a second!" a clear, iron-hard voice called out from the back of the auditorium!
Every head in the room snapped toward the main entrance doors.
The heavy, gilded double doors swung open slowly.
Walking down the red-carpeted center aisle was Alessandro Romano.
He was dressed in an immaculate charcoal tuxedo, his hair slicked back, carrying a heavy leather briefcase in his left hand.
Beside him walked Mara, looking magnificent in a emerald-green silk gown, her hair styled with silver pins, wearing their mother’s lion pendant openly around her neck.
Behind them stood Gideon and six Romano operators, their hands tucked inside their dark coats, their eyes scanning the balcony guards.
Vincent’s face went completely purple with shock. "ALESSANDRO?! HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!"
"I built the security system for this building ten years ago, Vincent," Alessandro said smoothly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the vast auditorium. "Did you really think a few cheap mercenaries could keep me out of my own family's box?"
"GUARDS! SHOOT THEM!" Vincent screamed frantically, reaching into his jacket for his weapon!
"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Don Carmine-Senior roared from the balcony, standing up and slamming his cane against the brass railing! "NO WEAPONS ARE DRAWN IN THE COMMISSION CHAMBER! THAT IS THE FIRST LAW!"
The thirty mercenaries stationed around the auditorium froze, their hands hovering over their holsters, terrified of defying the senior patriarch.
Alessandro stopped at the foot of the stage, looking up at the four Commission bosses.
"Gentlemen of the Archon," Alessandro said, his tone icy and respectful. "I come before you tonight not to ask for mercy, but to deliver justice. Vincent Moretti has lied to you. He has lied to this entire city for eighteen years."
"He’s a liar!" Vincent shrieked, sweat pouring down his face. "He’s trying to stall! Kill him!"
Alessandro casually tossed the heavy leather briefcase onto the stage floor. The latch popped open, spilling hundreds of financial ledgers, bank drives, and signed assassination orders across the polished wooden floorboards.
"In that briefcase," Alessandro declared, "are the original bank records proving that Vincent Moretti has been stealing thirty percent of the Archon’s drug revenues for nearly two decades. He set up dummy accounts in the Cayman Islands under his daughter’s name."
The four patriarchs on the balcony immediately began whispering in hushed, furious tones. Don Carmine-Senior leaned over the edge, his eyes scanning the bank documents visible on the stage.
"Is this true, Vincent?" Carmine demanded, his voice trembling with dark rage.
"NO! IT’S FORGED!" Vincent panicked, backing away toward the stage curtains.
"And there is one more thing," Alessandro added, stepping aside to present Mara to the Commission. "Eighteen years ago, my mother Isabella Romano disappeared. Vincent told you she was killed by rival gangs. But six years ago, Vincent had her buried alive in an unmarked grave near the docks."
Mara took a step forward, her voice ringing out clear, terrifying, and strong. "My name is Mara Isabella Romano. I am the daughter of Don Carmine Romano. I survived six years in the shadows... and I watched Vincent Moretti order my mother's death."
A wave of absolute shock rippled through the auditorium!
Don Carmine-Senior slowly lowered his head, looking at Mara’s face, then at the silver lion pendant hanging from her neck.
"By God," the old patriarch whispered, his eyes filling with solemn reverence. "She has Isabella’s eyes. She is a true Romano."
Don Carmine-Senior turned his furious gaze upon Vincent Moretti. "Vincent... you broke the sacred oath of the Archon. You stole from the Commission. You murdered a boss’s wife."
Vincent realized in a split second that his empire was crumbling. The Commission was turning against him. His lies were stripped bare.
A look of crazed, animalistic desperation crossed Vincent’s face.
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"TO HELL WITH THE COMMISSION!" Vincent roared!
He pulled a hidden submachine gun from beneath the podium and pointed it directly at Don Carmine-Senior!
