Chapter 4 - The Ledger of Blood
The formalization of the marriage between Dominic Romano and Meline Rossi took place on a crisp Friday morning inside the private chapel on the estate grounds. There were no guests, no white dresses, and no celebration. A corrupt city magistrate signed the certificates, stamped the seals, and left with a briefcase full of cash.
Meline was officially a Romano. Her signature on the contract legally bound her to the family, protecting her from any extradition attempts by her father or Arban Hoxha. But in the underworld, paperwork was only as strong as the lead backing it.
That evening, Dominic called Meline into his private study. The room was heavy with the scent of old leather, premium tobacco, and the distinct undercurrent of tension. Spread across his desk were dozens of financial printouts and a thick, leather-bound ledger.
"Your father’s thirty days are running out, Meline," Dominic said, not looking up as he adjusted a pair of reading glasses. "He hasn't made a single payment on the three million he owes me. Instead, my intelligence shows he’s been meeting with Arban Hoxha at a private club in Brighton Beach."
Meline sat in the leather armchair across from him, her posture elegant, her expression neutral. "They’re planning something. My father would rather die than pay you three million dollars, and Arban still thinks I belong to him. He considers your intervention an insult to his reputation."
Dominic leaned back in his chair, his icy blue eyes locking onto hers. "Frank Rossi thinks I’m distracted because of the children. He thinks because I’ve spent the last two years hiding in this house trying to keep my family from falling apart, I’ve gone soft." He leaned forward, tapping his finger against the ledger.
"This ledger contains the record of every single shipping manifest that enters the Brooklyn port. Sixty percent of your father’s revenue comes from hijacking or taxing the unsanctioned cargo that comes through those docks. Tomorrow morning, I am freezing his access. I am shutting down his operations, and I am seizing his warehouses in Red Hook."
Meline felt a cold thrill run through her veins. "He will retaliate, Dominic. He’s a cornered animal. When you take away his money, he will look for the one thing he thinks you value."
"Let him try," Dominic said, a lethal, terrifying smile touching his lips. "He thinks you are my weakness because I brought you here. He doesn't realize you are the shield that allows me to go to war without worrying about my children’s safety."
Suddenly, the intercom on his desk buzzed. Marco’s voice came through, sharp and urgent. "Boss, we have a delivery at the front gate. It’s a box addressed to the new Mrs. Romano. No explosives, we cleared it, but... you need to see this."
Dominic frowned, gesturing for Meline to stay seated as he walked to the heavy oak doors, opening them to reveal Marco holding a long, rectangular white box wrapped in a black ribbon.
Dominic took the box, setting it carefully on the mahogany table. He sliced the ribbon with a silver pocket knife and lifted the lid.
Inside lay a dozen pristine white lilies. But they weren't beautiful. Their petals had been systematically crushed, sliced, and soaked in a dark, thick crimson liquid that smelled distinctly of copper.
Blood.
Nestled among the ruined flowers was a small, typed note: Broken merchandise belongs in the dirt. Thirty days, Romano. We take back what’s ours.
Dominic’s face didn't turn red with rage; instead, it went completely white, his features freezing into a mask of pure, unadulterated killing intent. He looked at Meline, who had stood up to look into the box.
May you like
She didn't scream. She didn't faint. She reached down, picked up the note, and crumpled it in her fist.
"My father always loved white lilies," Meline said, her voice completely devoid of fear, replaced by a cold, resonant fury. "He used to buy them for my mother whenever he successfully cleared a debt. This is his signature, Dominic. He wants a war. Let’s give him one."
