Chapter 5 - The Invitation to the Snake Pit
The Grand Obsidian Hotel was the neutral sanctuary of the city’s underworld.
Built in the 1920s with black marble, gold leafing, and soaring crystal chandeliers, its massive ballroom was the only venue where rival crime families could gather without drawing blood. The Commission—a council of five old men who maintained the fragile peace between the syndicates—sat at the high balcony table overlooking the floor.
By 8:00 PM, the ballroom was packed with two hundred of the city’s most powerful figures. Men in expensive tuxedos, women dripped in diamonds, corrupt politicians, and undercover enforcers mingled over crystal flutes of champagne.
At the center of the room stood Don Antonio Moretti.
At sixty-five, Antonio was a imposing figure with silver hair, a sharp beard, and eyes as cold as a frozen lake. Beside him stood his newly appointed chief enforcer, Dominic—a brutal, hulking man who wore a tailored suit over a body built for violence.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Commission,” Antonio’s voice boomed through the ballroom microphone as he stood near the main stage. “Thank you for gathering tonight. We are here to address a cancer growing in our city.”
The crowd fell silent, turning their attention toward the stage.
“For two years, Rory Starks has operated outside the laws of the Commission,” Antonio declared dramatically, holding up his glass. “He has expanded his territory aggressively, ignored our agreements, and most recently... he abducted my youngest daughter, Veronica, keeping her hostage to force my family into submission!”
Whispers rippled through the elite crowd like wildfire.
“Furthermore,” Antonio continued, his voice dripping with false sorrow, “Rory Starks has gone insane following the death of his wife. His household is in shambles. His own sister, Victoria, reached out to me weeks ago begging for protection from her brother’s erratic behavior!”
Antonio raised his arms high. “Tonight, I propose that the Commission revoke the Starks Syndicate’s charter and authorize a joint operation to dismantle his empire!”
The old men of the Commission leaned forward on the balcony, whispering among themselves.
Before the lead Commissioner could strike his gavel, the heavy, double oak doors at the back of the ballroom blew open with a thunderous CRACK.
A cold draft swept into the warm room, extinguishing the flickering candles along the entryway.
Six armed Starks enforcers in immaculate dark suits stepped into the ballroom, forming a pristine, double-line escort.
Then, he walked in.
Rory Starks looked every inch the undisputed King of the city. He wore a midnight-black tailored tuxedo that emphasized his massive shoulders and broad chest. His dark hair was slicked back sharply, revealing the dark raven tattoo winding up his neck. His expression was devoid of emotion—a statue of solid iron and cold lethal power.
Beside him, resting her hand comfortably on his arm, walked Veronica.
The ballroom collective gasped.
Veronica was breathtaking. She wore an exquisite, floor-length emerald silk gown that hugged her curves flawlessly. Her dark hair was styled in glamorous Hollywood waves resting over one shoulder, and around her throat sat a vintage diamond choker—a piece of Starks heirloom jewelry that hadn't been seen since the grand days of Rory’s mother.
She didn't walk like a rescued hostage. She walked like an Empress returning to claim her throne.
Antonio’s champagne glass shattered on the marble floor as his hand went completely limp. “V-Veronica?”
Rory escorted her down the central aisle, the crowd parting like the Red Sea before them. Every eye in the room was pinned on the maid who had suddenly transformed into the most powerful woman in the room.
Rory stopped at the foot of the stage, looking up at Antonio with a dark, mocking smile.
“You have terrible sources, Antonio,” Rory’s deep voice echoed effortlessly through the high ceilings. “My wife isn't insane. My house isn't in shambles. And as you can see... your daughter doesn't look like a hostage to me.”
Veronica stepped forward, looking up at her father with absolute disdain.
“Hello, Father,” Veronica said, her voice amplification effortlessly reaching the balcony of the Commission. “It’s been five years. You haven't changed at all. Still lying to better men to cover up your own cowardice.”
The lead Commissioner slammed his gavel down. “Silence! Don Antonio, you claimed your daughter was being held in a dungeon!”
“She is!” Antonio stuttered, his face flushing dark red as panic set in. “She’s brainwashed! She’s under his spell! Dominic, seize her!”
Dominic took a step off the stage toward Veronica.
In a fraction of a second, Rory stepped in front of Veronica. Before Dominic could reach his coat, Rory’s hand shot out like a striking cobra, grabbing Dominic by the throat, slamming him face-first into the edge of the marble stage with a sickening CRACK.
Dominic dropped to the floor, unconscious and bleeding profusely from his nose.
The crowd screamed, pulling back in terror. Dozens of Moretti guards pulled their firearms, but sixty Starks enforcers stationed around the perimeter of the ballroom drew their weapons simultaneously, creating an immediate, terrifying standoff.
Rory didn't even pull a gun. He simply wiped a speck of blood from his cufflink with a silk handkerchief.
“Anyone else want to touch my woman?” Rory asked softly, his eyes sweeping over the Moretti guards.
Not a single man moved.
Rory turned his gaze back to Antonio, who was cowering near the microphone.
“You tried to break my family from the inside, Antonio,” Rory said, pulling a leather folder from his inner jacket pocket and tossing it onto the Commission’s balcony above. “In that folder, you’ll find bank records, voice logs, and blue-prints of the military-grade sonic weapon Don Antonio used against my six-year-old daughters.”
The room went completely dead silent. Even the ruthless mobsters in the crowd looked horrified. Hitting a rival was business. Targeting a Don’s innocent children was an unforgivable breach of the Underworld Code.
“He poisoned my daughters’ nursery,” Rory declared, his voice echoing like thunder. “And he bribed my sister Victoria to help him do it.”
The lead Commissioner opened the folder, reviewing the evidence for two tense minutes. His old face turned stone-cold.
“Don Antonio Moretti,” the Commissioner announced, his voice booming across the speakers. “You have violated the Sacred Code of the Commission. Your charter is hereby stripped. Your family is declared Excommunicado.”
Antonio fell to his knees on the stage, his empire crumbling to dust in a single evening. “No! You can’t do this! I am the head of the Moretti Family!”
“You were,” Veronica said softly, stepping up to the stage and looking down at her defeated father. “Now you’re just a traitor awaiting execution.”
Rory reached out his hand to Veronica. She took it without hesitation.
May you like
As they turned to walk out of the ballroom, Rory stopped, looking back over his shoulder at the stunned crowd of Five Families.
“Let this be a lesson to every man in this city,” Rory announced, his arm wrapping securely around Veronica’s waist, pulling her flush against his side. “Veronica Moretti is now under the absolute protection of the Starks Syndicate. Touch her... and I will burn your world to ashes.”
