Chapter 4 - The Serpent's Nest(Focus: Garrett leaves Mave in safety and goes to confront his mother at the family estate; stripping Victoria of her power.)
The traditional Hail family compound in Upper Manhattan was an old-world fortress of gray limestone and wrought iron, surrounded by ancient oak trees that kept the property shrouded in permanent shadow. This was the place where my mother, Victoria Hail, had ruled as the matriarch for over two decades, pulling the strings of our family’s politics from behind a veil of aristocratic elegance.
When I stepped through the grand double doors of the main library, the room was filled with the heavy scent of old paper, premium cigars, and betrayal. Six of our family’s oldest and most powerful capos were seated around the massive mahogany table. At the head of the table sat my mother, wearing a flawless black Chanel suit, her silver-streaked hair styled perfectly, holding a delicate teacup.
"Garrett," she said, her voice smooth, showing absolutely no sign of panic or guilt. "You’ve finally decided to join us. I was just explaining to the gentlemen how your sudden... emotional relapse in the middle of Fifth Avenue has put our entire organization in mortal peril."
I didn't answer her. I walked slowly to the opposite end of the table, my boots leaving faint, muddy prints on the priceless Persian rug. I tossed a heavy, waterlogged plastic folder onto the center of the mahogany wood. It was Mave’s folder of job applications.
The capos looked at the folder, then up at me, their expressions tense. They knew the storm was coming.
"Three years ago, Victoria," I said, my voice dangerously calm, completely omitting the word 'Mother'. "You used armed soldiers to threaten the life of my wife. You manufactured a fraudulent medical report to convince her she was broken. And you forced her to raise my daughter in poverty while you plotted to sell my life to the Ashford cartel."
Victoria set her teacup down with a sharp, controlled clink. "I did what was necessary to preserve the strength of this family, Garrett! Mave Whitlock was a weak, inconsequential girl from a working-class background. She could never provide the political leverage this syndicate needed to survive the war with the Ashfords. Look at what happened today! You walked away for five minutes, and our warehouses are already burning!"
"The warehouses are burning because you allowed the Ashfords to believe they were our equals," I said, leaning forward, my hands flat on the table, my icy gray eyes locking onto hers with a ferocity that made her breath hitch. "You thought you were protecting the bloodline? The little girl Mave was holding in the rain today has my eyes. She is a Hail. She is the true heir to this empire. And you threw her into the gutter to satisfy your own sick obsession with power."
"She is a bastard child raised by a runaway!" Victoria snapped, her aristocratic facade finally cracking, her voice rising into an ugly, venomous shriek. "Gentlemen, as the matriarch of this family, I am officially calling for a vote of no confidence. Garrett Hail is compromised by sentimentality. He must be removed from command immediately!"
Not a single capo moved. Not a single hand was raised.
Old Uncle Silvio, the longest-serving captain of the Hail syndicate, slowly took his cigar out of his mouth, looking at the waterlogged folder and then at me. "Victoria... a child with the Hail eyes is never a bastard. If what Garrett says is true, you didn't protect the family. You committed treason against our own blood."
"Silvio!" Victoria gasped, her face turning a sickly, pale white.
"Your time is over, Victoria," I said, straightening up. I signaled to Wesley, who stepped into the library followed by six young, heavily armed soldiers whose loyalties belonged solely to me. "Effective right now, you are stripped of all family assets. The Long Island estate, the offshore trusts, the keys to the family properties—they have already been legally transferred into a blind trust for my daughter, Posie Hail."
"You can't do this to me!" Victoria screamed, standing up, her chair screeching violently against the floor. "I am your mother, Garrett! I built you!"
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"You are a snake who tried to starve my daughter," I said, turning my back to her. "Wesley, escort her to the isolated cottage in the deep woods of upstate New York. She will have a single maid, no phone access, no internet, and four armed guards outside her door for the rest of her natural life. If she ever attempts to contact the outside world, stop her breathing."
As my soldiers dragged a screaming, cursing Victoria Hail out of the room, I looked at the remaining capos. "The Ashfords think we are weak because our wedding was canceled. Tonight, we show them how the Hails handle a divorce. Gather the soldiers. We are going to end this war before the sun rises."
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