Chapter 5 - The Council of WolvesThe private loading bay of Pier 12 was vast, drafty, and filled with towering stacks of imported lumber that smelled of pine sap and sea salt.
Six men stood in a loose circle around a single folding table illuminated by a single hanging work light. These weren't low-level thugs; these were the captains who controlled the docks, the construction unions, the trucking routes, and the financial laundering fronts of the Rinaldi empire.
They were nervous. Dominic never called emergency dawn meetings unless blood was about to be spilled.
Dominic stood at the head of the table, his charcoal overcoat draped over his broad shoulders like a shroud. Curtis Pike sat tied to the same metal chair, bruised, shivering, and whimpering quietly into his chest.
"You all know why you're here," Dominic said, his voice echoing off the corrugated iron walls.
Sal Marino, a brutal, thick-necked veteran who had served Dominic’s father for decades, spat a toothpick onto the concrete floor. "If this is about the port delays on Friday, Boss, Vance's union thugs threw a wrench in the gears. We’re handling it."
"Are you, Sal?" Dominic asked quietly.
Dominic tossed Pike’s phone and the incriminating ledger onto the center of the table.
Sal glanced down at the open pages. As his eyes scanned the names, the bank account numbers, and the specific shipment codes, the color drained completely from his sun-baked face.
"This... this is internal," Sal muttered, looking up at Dominic with sudden wariness. "How did you find this?"
"A waitress at a diner found it," Dominic said flatly.
Silence fell over the warehouse so heavy that the distant cry of a seagull outside sounded like a gunshot.
"A waitress?" Sal repeated, incredulous. "You called us here at dawn over a diner employee?"
"She wasn't just an employee," Dominic said, his eyes scanning every captain in the room, watching for the subtle twitch of a jaw, the nervous shift of an eye. "She was someone your pet manager decided to rob because he thought nobody would care about a woman who didn't fit your polished little ideas of what people are worth."
Dominic stepped forward, resting both hands on the edge of the table.
"My father built this organization on fear and loyalty," Dominic said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "He taught me that weakness is a sin. But for ten years, I let my empire rot from the inside out because I surrounded myself with men who measured loyalty in kickbacks and greed."
Dominic pointed a finger at Curtis Pike.
"Pike wasn't just stealing from a working woman to pay his debts. He was selling our shipping routes to Victor Vance. And he wasn't doing it alone."
Every captain stiffened.
May you like
"Boss," one of the younger capos stammered, raising his hands. "You don't think—"
"I don't think, Gio," Dominic interrupted coldly. "I know. Because the ledger lists every single account number where Vance's payoffs were funneled. And three of those accounts belong to men sitting right at this table."
