Chapter 6 - The Neutral Grounds
The Grand Hotel in downtown Manhattan served as the neutral meeting space for the five families of the syndicate. Its underground ballroom, lined with marble pillars and crystal chandeliers, was completely devoid of innocent hotel guests tonight. Heavily armed guards from every major family stood along the perimeter walls, watching each other with twitchy fingers near their holsters.
Dante walked into the cavernous hall with absolute authority, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit. I walked close behind him, holding Eli’s small hand in mine. Eli squeezed my fingers tightly, wide-eyed as he looked at the massive room and the stern-faced men in suits.
At the center of the room sat a massive round oak table. Seven elderly men—the heads of the rival families and the Commission arbiters—sat on one side. Opposite them stood Dante’s cousin, Leo Moretti, and the ruthless boss, Don Valenti.
"Dante," Don Carmine, the eldest arbiter, spoke in a gravelly voice that echoed off the high ceiling. "You called for an emergency session under the Santa Maria accord. State your business."
Leo stepped forward, a sneering smile playing on his lips. "He brought a bastard and his washed-up ex-wife to delay his execution, Carmine! Dante spent seven years hiding the fact that his wife betrayed us to the Valentis. Now he brings a random kid and claims he's a Moretti heir?"
The room filled with low murmurs from the surrounding syndicate members.
Dante didn't flinch. He placed a gentle hand on Eli's shoulder, ushering him forward just a few inches into the light of the chandelier.
"Look at him, Leo," Dante said, his voice echoing like thunder across the marble floor. "Look into his eyes and tell this court he isn't a Moretti."
Don Carmine leaned forward, adjusting his reading glasses as he scrutinized Eli’s face. The old man’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized the undeniable genetic traits of the Moretti bloodline—the storm-gray irises, the distinctive gold ring around the pupil, the jawline that had belonged to three generations of Don Morettis.
"The blood is undeniable," Don Carmine declared softly, turning to the other arbiters, who nodded in silent agreement.
"It doesn't matter!" Valenti shouted, slamming his fist onto the table. "Nora fled New York seven years ago after selling family secrets! The mother is a traitor, which makes the child compromised!"
"Nora never sold a single secret," Dante barked, stepping forward, his eyes burning with lethal rage. "My father manufactured the betrayal to force us apart because he wanted full control over my life. I have the bank ledgers from my father's estate, recovered this morning, proving the money Valenti claims was paid to Nora was actually laundered through Leo’s offshore accounts!"
Marco stepped forward, tossing a thick black binder onto the center of the oak table.
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Leo’s face went completely pale. "That's a lie! It's a setup!"
"The paper trail doesn't lie, Leo," Dante said softly, taking a step toward his cousin. "You conspired with Valenti to stage my wife's disappearance, framing her so you could weaken my standing in the Commission and split my territory."
