Chapter 16

The Commission bosses stared at him, their fair, rosy skin entirely drained of color. They had expected Damian to hunker down in his city and defend his borders, fighting a war of attrition. They had never anticipated him launching a suicide mission directly into their sanctuary.
"Damian," Don Salvatore, the oldest boss, stammered, raising his trembling hands. "You are breaking the sacred laws! You cannot assault the Commission! You rejected a crucial alliance with the Sloanes! You brought this upon yourself!"
"Did I ask for a justification, Salvatore?" Damian inquired smoothly, taking a slow step toward the head of the table. "Or did I ask a simple question?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Damian raised his suppressed sidearm and fired a single, flawless shot. The bullet struck the boss sitting to Salvatore's right squarely in the chest, dropping the man instantly.
The remaining bosses screamed, realizing that diplomacy was entirely dead. They were trapped in a room with a monster who felt absolutely no mercy.
"You authorized mercenaries to fire upon my estate," Damian stated, his voice a low, vibrating hum of absolute danger. "You conspired with a family that tortured my daughter. Your authority... is officially terminated."
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He walked slowly around the table, the artistic tattoos on his hand catching the red emergency light. "You have two choices. You sign over the national logistics networks to my holding company and retire immediately to Europe. Or you die in this room, tonight."
Faced with absolute, unavoidable destruction, the remaining bosses frantically agreed to his terms. The hostile takeover of the national syndicate was executed without a single contract, finalized only by the terrifying presence of the apex predator.