Chapter 7 - The Poison in the Nursery
Dominic Bellini backed away from the head of the table, clutching his chest as his face turned the color of curdled cream.
“Vincent… what is the meaning of this circus?” Bellini stammered, attempting to rally his shattered arrogance.
“You bring a common housekeeper and a random orphan into the sovereign council of the five families?”
I walked slowly down the center aisle of the ballroom, every step echoing with the terrifying finality of a funeral march.
I set Chloe gently onto the head of the mahogany conference table, where she sat swinging her little patent-leather shoes without a shred of fear.
Chloe looked around at the fifty hardened mob bosses, then pointed a small, delicate finger directly at Bellini’s face.
“Uncle Vincent,” Chloe spoke, her sweet, clear voice carrying across the dead-silent room.
“That is the bad man with the loud voice who kicked our front door open and broke my stuffed bear.”
A wave of horrified murmurs rippled through the older syndicate elders, several dons backing away from Bellini in utter disgust.
In the underworld code of the five families, threatening a child was a crime punishable by total, unpardonable annihilation.
“She’s lying!” Bellini screamed hysterically, slamming his fists onto the table.
“She is a street child coached by this woman to steal Julian’s three hundred million dollars!”
I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a stack of certified DNA certificates stamped with the gold seal of the Illinois Supreme Court.
I slammed the documents onto the table directly in front of the four ruling family dons.
“This is the biological DNA sequencing of Chloe Thorne, matched against Julian’s archival military records with a ninety-nine point nine-nine percent certainty,” I announced.
“And this is the Swiss civil marriage certificate proving Elena Vance is Julian’s lawful widow.”
The eldest don in the room, Don Antonio Lucchese, picked up the certificates, examining the embossed gold seals with profound reverence.
Don Antonio rose to his feet, bowing his silver head respectfully toward Elena and little Chloe.
“The bloodline is undeniable,” Don Antonio declared in a booming, raspy baritone that echoed off the high rafters.
“Under the ancient laws of our founders, Chloe Thorne is the undisputed sovereign heiress to the Thorne Maritime Empire.”
“And any man who raises his hand against this child is declared an enemy of all five families.”
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Bellini began to hyperventilate, his eyes darting frantically toward the private security detail standing near the kitchen entrance.
He had realized that his political coup was dead, his reputation was incinerated, and the trap was closing around his throat.
