The music stopped so abruptly that the final note from the string quartet seemed to hang beneath the chandeliers.

The Manhattan skyline glowed through the glass walls of the penthouses atop the Empire Club, an exclusive sanctuary where politicians, judges, and high-ranking business moguls settled matters far away from public scrutiny.

Dominic walked through the polished brass doors of the private dining room, flanked by Julian. Inside, seated around a long mahogany conference table, were seven men in expensive suits.

At the head of the table sat Senator Arthur Corradi—a man in his late fifties with silver hair, sharp hazel eyes, and a reputation for being completely untouchable. Beside him sat two senior members of the regional commission, men who officially governed trade along the Hudson River, but unofficially divided up territories for those powerful enough to pay.

Corradi didn't stand up when Dominic entered. He simply took a slow sip of his bourbon and set the glass down with a heavy click.

"Dominic," Corradi said, his tone dripping with condescending warmth. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice. We were just discussing the unfortunate... industrial incident at Pier 14 last night."

Dominic pulled out a leather chair at the foot of the table and sat down calmly, crossing his legs. "There’s nothing unfortunate about a dangerous structure fire being extinguished, Senator."

Corradi’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Victor Karras was a prominent associate of several members in this room, Dominic. His logistics firm held thirty percent of the deep-water shipping rights in Jersey City. Overnight, his warehouse burns down, his men vanish, and suddenly your trucks are occupying those piers."

"Victor Karras attempted to murder my eight-year-old son with a lethal dose of nerve toxin inside my own house," Dominic said flatly, his voice echoing off the glass walls with ice-cold clarity. "He bought my cousin Gabriel to carry out the attempt. Anyone who backed Karras is an accomplice to treason against my family."

A tense murmur rippled across the table. Two of the commission members shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Corradi leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "That’s a heavy accusation, Dominic. But in our world, personal grievances do not override commercial stability. You destroyed a key asset without the approval of this council. You think because you inherit the Moretti name, you can act like a king in Westchester?"

"I don't act like a king, Arthur," Dominic said softly, leaning forward until his eyes locked onto the politician’s face. "I act like a father. And if you—or anyone sitting at this table—thinks that business comes before the blood of my child, you are drastically underestimating what I am willing to burn down next."

Corradi’s face flushed red with anger. He stood up slowly, leaning over the table. "You’re growing reckless, Moretti. Grief made you quiet for seven years, but now you think you can flex your muscles? You have an eight-year-old boy and a housekeeper’s bastard living in your house. You are vulnerable, Dominic. More vulnerable than you have ever been."

CLICK.

The sound of Julian shifting his jacket back to reveal the leather harness of his sidearm echoed through the quiet room.

Dominic didn't draw a weapon. He didn't even raise his voice. He simply stood up, towering over the senator, his presence radiating an absolute, suffocating dominance.

"Touch my house, Arthur," Dominic whispered, his words cutting through the air like razor wire. "Mention my family again. And I won't burn a pier. I will expose every offshore trust, every illegal campaign donation, and every ledger you’ve hidden in Switzerland since 2012. I have Karras’s private safe from the warehouse. I know who paid him."

Corradi went completely pale. His lips parted, but no sound came out. The threat was precise, lethal, and absolute.

Dominic turned on his heel and walked out of the penthouse, Julian falling into step right behind him.

As they stepped into the private elevator, Julian looked over at his boss. "Corradi won't drop this, Dominic. He’s cornered. Cornered men do desperate things."

"I know," Dominic replied, watching the floor numbers count down. "He knows he can't hit me on the docks. He’s going to look for a weakness inside my walls."