Chapter 18 - The Meeting Room
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The restaurant was completely empty.
Victor had rented the entire establishment for the evening.
He sat at a large, round table in the center of the dining room.
No guards stood behind him.
No weapons rested on the table.
Just a single glass of water and absolute silence.
The front doors opened, and Dante Rossi walked in.
He was flanked by four heavily armed men.
Dante wore a sharp suit, a arrogant smile plastered across his face.
He looked around the empty room and laughed.
“Victor Blackwood,” Dante sneered. “Alone. I expected an army.”
Victor did not stand.
“Sit down, Dante.”
The younger man waved his guards away and took the seat opposite Victor.
“You’ve grown soft, Victor. Living in that big mansion. Playing house.”
Victor took a slow sip of his water.
“I asked you here to discuss your future.”
“My future is taking back what belongs to my family,” Dante leaned forward. “You think you can just go legitimate and everyone will forget the blood on your hands?”
“I don't expect anyone to forget,” Victor said calmly. “But I expect them to respect the current boundaries.”
Dante laughed again, a harsh, grating sound.
“And if I don't?”
Victor slowly reached into his suit jacket.
Dante’s guards immediately tensed, reaching for their weapons.
But Victor only pulled out a manila envelope.
He slid it across the table.
“Open it,” Victor commanded softly.
Dante frowned, picking up the envelope and pulling out the documents inside.
His arrogant smile instantly vanished.
The color drained entirely from his face.
They were bank records.
Property deeds.
Shipping manifests.
“What is this?” Dante whispered.
“That is every single asset your family owns,” Victor explained smoothly. “Every offshore account. Every warehouse. Every corrupt politician on your payroll.”
Dante swallowed hard.
“If you cross the boundary I have set,” Victor continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “I will not send men with guns to your house. I will simply freeze your accounts. I will seize your shipments. I will bankrupt your entire bloodline before the sun rises.”
Dante stared at the papers, his hands shaking slightly.
He suddenly realized the terrible truth.
Victor Blackwood had not grown soft.
He had simply evolved.
He no longer fought in the streets.
He owned the streets.
“Do we have an understanding?” Victor asked.
Dante slowly pushed the envelope back across the table.
“Yes,” Dante muttered.
“Good,” Victor stood up, adjusting his cuffs.
“Enjoy the dinner. I already paid the bill.”
Victor walked out of the restaurant, leaving the ghost of his past sitting in the dark.
May you like
His hands were clean.
His family was safe.
