Chapter 4 - The Cancellation at the MeridianBy 11:00 AM the following morning, thirty-six hours before the scheduled grand wedding, the high-stakes corporate and criminal sector of Chicago erupted into total, unadulterated chaos.
Inside the grand ballroom of the Meridian Grand Hotel, two hundred guests, international syndicate bosses, and news reporters were gathered for the pre-wedding rehearsal luncheon.
Sloan Kensington stood near the champagne pyramid wearing a five-thousand-dollar white silk gown, her dark hair styled, holding court among her socialite friends.
Beside her stood her uncle, Marcus Kensington, wearing a tailored tuxedo, sipping scotch, waiting for news that Gabriel had executed his "traitorous assistant" in the basement.
BOOM!
The heavy mahogany double doors of the ballroom were thrown open by four uniformed State Troopers.
Walking down the center aisle, wearing an immaculate black suit, flanked by ten armed Romano operators carrying heavy tactical cases, was Gabriel.
The music stopped instantly. The two hundred guests went dead, breathlessly silent.
Sloan smiled brightly, stepping forward toward him. "Gabriel! Darling! What is the meaning of this dramatic entrance? The rehearsal isn't supposed to start for—"
Gabriel didn't look at her. He didn't offer a kiss.
He stepped up to the main microphone stand near the champagne tower, leaning down, his baritone echoing smoothly through the silent room.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Gabriel announced, his voice cool, flat, and devoid of a single drop of warmth. "The wedding between the Romano and Kensington families is permanently canceled."
A loud, shock-filled gasp rippled through the two hundred guests.
Marcus Kensington jumped out of his chair, his face contorting in sudden, furious panic. "Gabriel! Have you lost your mind?! You can't cancel a merger twenty-four hours before the ceremony!"
Gabriel pulled the black leather ledger from his inner jacket pocket, tossing it flat onto the head table in front of Marcus.
"Page forty-two, Marcus," Gabriel spoke, every word dropped into the room like a slab of cold iron. "The complete financial records detailing your poison orders from the pharmacy in Zurich, along with the full audio recording of your three enforcers confessing in the basement before they were eliminated."
Sloan’s face went paper-white, her champagne glass slipping from her manicured fingers. CRASH.
May you like
"And as for the assistant you tortured for thirty hours," Gabriel added, his gray eyes burning with an apocalyptic fury that made Marcus stumble backward two steps, "her name is Donna Clara. And anyone connected to her injuries will answer to the full authority of the Romano estate."
Two Federal Marshals stepped forward from the doorway, slapping heavy steel handcuffs around Marcus Kensington’s wrists for attempted murder and corporate wire fraud, dragging his groveling frame out through the glass doors.
Related Stories
