Chapter 2 - The Syndicate's Vultures
Three days later, the air inside the grand drawing room of the Castellano mansion was thick with tension and the heavy scent of expensive cigars.
While Vincent lay unconscious in the estate’s private surgical suite downstairs, hooked to blood transfusions and heart monitors, the upper hierarchy of the South Louisiana crime syndicate had gathered like vultures circling a dying beast.
Seated around the antique mahogany table were the heads of the four allied families and Vincent’s senior lieutenants.
At the head of the room stood Dominic Vane—Vincent’s ruthless uncle and the syndicate’s chief financial administrator. Dominic was fifty-eight, with slicked-back silver hair, a tailored pinstripe suit, and eyes like cold steel coins. He had spent twenty years in Vincent’s shadow, quietly amassing influence while waiting for the young Don to make a fatal mistake.
"We cannot afford to pretend everything is fine!" Dominic slammed his fist onto the table, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Vincent is in a coma! The doctor won't even give us a straight answer on whether he'll wake up or suffer permanent brain damage! Meanwhile, the Moretti family is moving into our shipping docks in New Orleans!"
"Dominic is right," chimed in Sal Vallone, a heavy-set boss from Baton Rouge. "A empire cannot run without a head. If Vincent is incapacitated, the Council must appoint an acting Don today. Otherwise, the Morettis will tear our business apart by the end of the week."
Marcus Ellery stood near the French doors, his hands folded calmly behind his back. Beside him stood Camille Boudreaux, holding a silver tray with fresh coffee cups.
Camille’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She was only supposed to serve coffee, but she could feel the dark, predatory energy filling the room. Every man here claimed to be loyal to Vincent, yet they were already carving up his territory while he was still breathing.
"Vincent underwent major surgery to repair a lacerated liver," Marcus said, his voice calm, firm, and dangerous. "Dr. Morales expects him to wake up within forty-eight hours. The Castellano family does not appoint an acting Don while Vincent’s heart is still beating."
Dominic turned his sharp gaze toward Marcus, a sneer twisting his thin lips. "You're a loyal lieutenant, Marcus, but you're just an employee here. I am a Castellano by blood. Until my nephew wakes up—if he wakes up—I am taking control of the family's security codes, ledger books, and bank accounts."
"The ledgers stay in the vault," Marcus replied without flinching. "Under Vincent's standing orders."
"Standing orders?" Dominic laughed coldly, taking a slow step toward Marcus. "And who witnessed these standing orders? You? Or perhaps this little maid here?"
Dominic’s cold, cruel eyes suddenly snapped onto Camille.
Camille shrank back slightly, clutching the silver tray to her chest.
"Ah, yes," Dominic mocked, walking up to Camille and looking down at her with pure condescension. "The famous housekeeper. The mother of the little brat who found Vincent. People are talking, you know. They say it’s a miracle a two-year-old found the Don. Or... maybe it wasn't a miracle at all."
Camille’s blood ran cold. "What... what are you saying, Mr. Vane?"
"I'm saying it's very convenient," Dominic sneered, his voice dripping with poison. "A maid’s child just happens to wander into the Don’s private office at the exact moment he gets shot? A child who happens to know how to use the emergency phone line? Tell me, Camille... who paid you to leave that office door open? Was it the Moretti family?"
"No!" Camille gasped, her eyes wide with shock and indignation. "How dare you! My daughter saved his life! I would never—"
"Silence!" Dominic barked, raising his hand as if to slap her across the face. "You're a servant in this house! You don't speak to me like that!"
Before Dominic’s hand could fall, a tiny figure darted out from behind the velvet curtains near the garden door.
"Leave my Mama alone!"
Adeline charged forward, her little sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. She planted herself right between Dominic and her mother, holding her stuffed green alligator like a shield. She glared up at the massive, terrifying man with fierce, unwavering bravery.
"Bad man!" Adeline shouted, her voice ringing out clearly in the grand room. "Don't yell at Mama!"
The entire room fell dead silent. The hardened syndicate bosses stared in absolute shock at the two-year-old child standing up to Dominic Vane.
Dominic’s face flushed red with humiliation and fury. "Get this little pest out of my sight! Marcus, throw this maid and her brat off the estate immediately!"
"Touch them, Dominic, and I'll kill you where you stand."
The deep, gravelly voice echoed from the doorway at the back of the room.
Everyone snapped their heads around.
Standing in the doorway, supporting himself against the frame, was Vincent Castellano.
He was wearing an unbuttoned black silk robe over his heavy white chest bandages. His face was still pale, and his IV line was taped to his arm, but his dark eyes burned with a lethal, terrifying intensity. Dr. Morales stood right behind him, looking furious that he had dragged himself out of bed, but unable to stop him.
"Vincent!" Marcus exhaled, stepping forward to assist him.
Vincent waved Marcus off with a sharp gesture. He walked slowly, painfully, but with absolute authority into the room, stopping directly beside Camille and Adeline.
He slowly knelt down on one knee—wincing as the movement pulled at his surgical stitches—and reached out a hand. He gently patted Adeline’s head, his severe expression softening instantly.
"Good job, Addie," Vincent murmured softly. "You're a brave girl."
Then, Vincent stood up. He turned his gaze toward his uncle Dominic, his expression turning to pure, liquid ice.
"I heard every word you said, Uncle," Vincent said, his voice dropping into a register that sent a chill down the spine of every man in the room. "You accused the woman and child who saved my life of treason. But more importantly... you threatened them in my house."
Dominic swallowed hard, taking an involuntary step back as the color drained from his face. "Vincent... I was only trying to maintain order! The family was in chaos—"
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"The family is fine," Vincent interrupted coldly. "You, however, are done."
Vincent raised his hand, pointing a single finger toward the exit. "Marcus, strip Dominic of his security access, seize his ledger accounts, and escort him off my property. If he sets foot on Castellano land again... bury him in the bayou."
