Chapter 5 - The Execution of the RivalsMarcus Moretti took two steps forward, his voice dripping with condescending, arrogant spite as he looked at me.
"Roman," Moretti sneered loudly enough for the entire ballroom to hear. "You canceled our shipping negotiations to parade a forty-dollar-a-night waitress around the Drake? Has the Don of Chicago lost his mind over a piece of trash?"
The entire ballroom went freezing, breathlessly cold.
Roman didn't draw a weapon. He didn't yell.
He slowly let go of my hand, taking two unhurried steps toward Marcus Moretti. The sheer, apocalyptic temperature in his gray eyes made Moretti’s three bodyguards instinctively take half a step backward, sweat beading along their foreheads.
"Moretti," Roman spoke, his baritone carrying cleanly across the silent room. "Thirty minutes ago, my operators acquired eighty-five percent of the primary debt mortgages on your shipping terminals in South Chicago."
Moretti’s face drained completely of color. "What... what did you say?!"
"You are bankrupt, Marcus," Roman revealed deadpan, every word dropped into the room like a slab of cold granite. "Your accounts in Zurich are frozen. Your lieutenants have surrendered their colors to Viktor. And as for David..."
Roman turned his eyes slowly onto David, who was trembling so violently his knees were knocking together.
"David sold you information about my wife," Roman announced, the word wife dropping into the silent room with an absolute, sovereign weight that made my pulse take a wild, thrilling leap. "And in my territory... traitors are dealt with by the federal marshals."
Two uniformed Federal Marshals stepped out from the rear entrance, slapping heavy steel handcuffs around David’s wrists for wire fraud and extortion, dragging his weeping, groveling frame out through the glass doors.
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Marcus Moretti collapsed back into his chair, his hands shaking frantically as Roman stepped close, leaning down until his face was inches from Moretti’s pale cheek.
"If you ever speak her name again, Marcus," Roman whispered cleanly, "I won't just take your docks. I will erase your name from the city history books."
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