Chapter 3

At dawn, the iron door of the underground hall swung open.

Loud laughter echoed inside.

"Fifty million in cash. That's two million for each of us," Bianca boasted. Her voice carried across the room. "Add our cuts from South Port, and we run our own kingdom. We never have to bow to that widow again."

Elders and senior capos packed the stone tiers. In the center sat the widows, shrouded in black veils. Bianca wore a black jacket riddled with bullet holes, her late husband's gold capo pin gleaming on her collar. She raised a glass to the room, drunk on her own ambition.

My heels clicked against the cold flagstones as I walked down the center aisle.

The laughter died instantly.

A dozen armed guards followed me, locking every iron gate behind us. I stopped before the altar, bowing my head to the long row of names carved in stone.

I stood tall, my face completely still.

"I heard your demands from last night. You think Long Island is a trap to rob you blind. Fine. The family will not force you to stay."

Bianca smirked and leaned back. "Folding already? Good. Sign the papers and hand over the ring, Scarlett."

"Turn on the screens," I said.

The massive monitors on the stone wall flashed to life, displaying live aerial drone feeds of the Long Island estate.

Three armored flatbeds smashed straight through the wrought-iron gates. Over a hundred armed guards in black tactical gear sealed every perimeter. Sweepers kicked open the heavy doors of every private villa. They dragged designer coats, trunk cases, and jewelry boxes out, tossing them like bags of trash into the dirt.

Steamrollers crushed the manicured lawns into gray mud. Work crews rolled out coils of razor wire and mounted Browning heavy machine guns on reinforced sandbags.

"What are you doing?" Bianca lunged out of her seat, the sneer vanishing from her mouth.

"Starting today, Long Island is a heavy weapons transit depot," I said, looking down from the dais. "Order number one. The family revokes every luxury suite, every armored SUV, and every medical account. You are out of the family's protection. Effective immediately."

Screams broke out among the widows.

"My jewelry is in that house!"

"You can't do this! Our men died for those houses!"

"Order number two," I cut through the screams. "The two hundred grand monthly allowance drops to zero. My collection crews are auditing the books. They will collect every dollar your dead husbands owed for lost guns and failed hits."

I gave a short nod. Two soldiers carried a heavy steel lockbox forward, slamming it onto the table in front of Bianca. The latches sprang open, revealing stacks of banded hundred-dollar bills.

"Three grand in cash for each of you," I said to Bianca. "Sign the release. Take the cash and get lost. Bleed out in the gutter for all I care. You no longer belong to Corleone."

"Three grand?" Bianca kicked the metal box, spitting mad. "Scarlett, you lost your mind. Three grand won't pay two months of rent downtown. The council will never let you get away with this."

Three elders started to rise from their chairs. My guards raised their rifles, locking laser sights onto the old men's foreheads.

The elders froze. None of them dared make a sound.

"Finally, discipline."

I snapped my fingers. The rear doors banged open. Guards threw three bound men onto the floor like butchered pigs. The gate sentries who took Bianca's bribes and let the wiretap into my house.

The traitors never got a chance to beg.

Three enforcers stepped from the shadows. Three quick snaps echoed off the stone walls. Neck bones broke clean. The guards dragged the bodies away, leaving dark red smears across the floor.

"A thirty-percent purge across all outer crews," I said, my voice dead flat. "My enforcers will handle the executions."

The entire hall fell into a graveyard silence.

Women sank onto their benches, shivering and covering their mouths. Several younger widows stared at the blood on the stone floor, terrified to take a breath.

Bianca gripped the back of her chair, staring at the screens showing her former sanctuary turned into a fortress.

The screen changed, locking onto mounted machine guns behind the fresh razor wire.

I stared down at Bianca's pale face.

"The eviction list drops tomorrow morning. Step one foot onto family turf after that, and my men shoot to kill."