Chapter 8 - The Price of Loyalty
Back in Chicago, the syndicate reorganization was ruthless and swift.
With Vincent completely discredited and Vittorio’s health deteriorating rapidly under the stress, the council of captains met in the private back room of a private club on Michigan Avenue. But this time, the chair at the head of the table did not belong to a Moretti.
It belonged to me.
I sat with my grandfather at my right, looking down at the five men who controlled the docks, the transport unions, and the commercial real estate of northern Illinois. They were hard, brutal men who had spent their lives dealing in violence and intimidation.
Yet today, they sat with their hands folded neatly on the table, treating me with a deference they had never shown to Vincent. Power in the modern world is not measured by who pulls the trigger; it is measured by who signs the checks, who owns the judges, and who controls the shipping ports.
""The Moretti name is finished as the head of this syndicate,"" Captain Lorenzo stated bluntly, lighting a cigar and looking at me. ""Vittorio is stepping down due to 'medical reasons.' Vincent is being sent to a minor logistics office in upstate New York, banned from ever returning to Cook County. We need leadership, Miss Bennett. Our men won't take orders from a committee.""
""You won't have a committee,"" I said, setting down my pen. ""You will answer directly to Marcus Vance, who will oversee all maritime and transport operations under the umbrella of Bennett Logistics. We are cleaning up the dirty contracts. No more smuggling through federal passenger docks, no more reckless street warfare. Everything moves through legitimate trade lines.""
""And our cut?"" Captain Bianchi asked, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.
""Your cut increases by five percent across all legitimate logistics channels,"" I replied evenly. ""In exchange, you guarantee total peace on the lakefront. If any of your men step out of line, or if anyone even whispers the name Moretti in this city again, your entire crew's funding will be cut off overnight.""
The five captains looked at each other, the calculation clear in their eyes. More money, less federal heat, and the backing of the oldest financial dynasty in Chicago. It was an offer no sane criminal could refuse.
One by one, the captains nodded.
""We agree, Miss Bennett,"" Lorenzo said, raising his glass of scotch in a salute. ""To the new order.""
May you like
I raised my glass of water, nodding back. For three years, I had hidden my intelligence, my education, and my heritage to fit into a mold that Vincent could handle. I had shrunk myself so a small man could feel like a giant.
Never again.
