Chapter 10 - The Blackstone Trial
The basement council room of the Blackstone Hotel was draped in thick velvet and cigar smoke. Six crime bosses sat around an oval oak table, guarded by fifty heavily armed men stationed in the corridors outside.
Don Carmine DeLuca, a frail-looking man with cold, reptile-like eyes, slammed his hand onto the wood. "The boy is a DeLuca! Dominic Moretti killed his father and stole the heir of our house. It is an insult to the Commission!"
"Julian was a traitor who poisoned his own blood," Dominic countered smoothly, standing at the foot of the table. "He forfeited his claim to fatherhood the moment he signed Elena's death warrant. The child bears my name. He is a Moretti."
"A child needs a proper mother and family structure, not a bachelor mob boss and a temporary nanny!" Carmine sneered, turning to the panel of neutral dons. "I offer him a home, a legacy, and peace between our houses."
Before the Commission could cast their votes, the double doors clicked open.
Sophie walked into the room, dressed in a sleek, conservative dark suit. She didn't flinch under the intimidating glares of six Syndicate bosses. In her hands, she carried official family court documents drafted by the top probate lawyers in Illinois.
"Miss Lane," Carmine barked. "This is a council of bosses. You have no standing here."
"I have every standing," Sophie said, her voice clear and echoing through the silent chamber. "Three days ago, I signed the official petition for full legal adoption alongside Dominic Moretti. Under Illinois civil law, as well as Elena's notarized final testament which was recovered from the bank, Dominic and I were named joint guardians in the event of her death."
May you like
She slid the certified documents across the table directly to the senior judge of the Commission. "If the DeLuca family attempts to take Matteo, every asset tied to Julian's estate will be immediately frozen by federal probate courts. You won't just lose the boy; you'll lose every cent he inherits."
Carmine’s face turned purple as the surrounding dons began muttering among themselves. The threat of federal probate exposure was the one thing no mob syndicate could risk.
