Chapter 4 - The Reckoning
Julian’s arrogant facade completely dissolved into pathetic, weeping terror. He fell to his knees on the carpet, clutching Damian’s trousers with blood-stained hands.
"Damian! Please! Have mercy!" Julian sobbed wildly. "It was the Russian syndicate! They pressured me! They promised me control of the ports if I broke your foundation! I didn't want to hurt Claire! I just wanted her out of the way!"
"You made my daughter an orphan before she could even say her first word," Damian said, his voice entirely devoid of human emotion.
Damian looked up at the capos standing around the room.
"Is there anyone in this room," Damian announced smoothly, "who believes Julian Vale deserves to leave this building alive?"
Not a single capo spoke. They lowered their heads in absolute submission, stepping away from Julian as if he were a plague victim. They knew the unwritten law of the underworld: touch the Don’s child, and you forfeit your right to exist.
"Owen," Damian commanded.
"Yes, boss?"
"Take Julian to the docks in Newark," Damian ordered coldly. "Let him explain his betrayal to the tide."
"NO! DAMIAN! PLEASE! NOOO!" Julian screamed as two massive security guards grabbed him under his arms and dragged him backward through the smoke-filled doorway, his fingernails scratching uselessly against the hardwood floor until his cries faded down the corridor.
Damian adjusted his silk tie, smoothed his suit jacket, and looked at the remaining capos.
"Effective immediately," Damian declared, "the Vale organization is undergoing a complete audit. Every financial line, every shipping vessel, every contact will be reviewed by my personal team. If anyone else harbored thoughts of disloyalty... I suggest you execute yourselves before I find you."
"Understood, Don Damian," the capos answered in unanimous unison, bowing their heads in deep respect and fear.
Damian turned and walked out of the penthouse.
As he stepped into the private elevator, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a video call from the estate’s private medical wing.
Damian answered immediately.
The screen showed Sophia sitting up in bed, looking much color, smiling warmly. Sitting on the edge of the bed was seven-year-old Emma, happily eating a bowl of strawberries, while Dr. Ellis held baby Lily in the background.
"Mr. Vale," Sophia said softly through the phone. "The doctor says I can move to a private room upstairs tomorrow."
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Damian felt the cold rage in his chest melt away, replaced by a profound, overwhelming warmth.
"Take all the time you need, Sophia," Damian said softly into the phone. "I’m coming home to my family."
