“This outlines revised territory lines,” I say. “Three blocks in the east district transferred to Moretti control. In exchange, your import routes move under my oversight.”
Victor studies the paper.
“You’re asking for submission,” he says.
“I’m offering stability.”
“And money?” DeLuca asks.
“There will be compensation,” I reply. “Upfront.”
The room grows quiet again.
Victor looks up at me slowly. “You would put us under your umbrella?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“And in return?”
“You remain intact.”
It’s not a threat but a fact.
Victor glances at Elias. At the gun still loose in his hand. At the way his son stands beside me instead of behind him.
The calculation finishes. He nods once.
“We accept.”
A ripple of tension releases.
DeLuca exhales smoke again. “You’re consolidating power, Romano.”
“Yes,” I say plainly.
“And we’re expected to trust that?”
I hold his gaze. “You’re expected to trust that I kill traitors.”
Silence.
No one argues that.
The meeting disperses slowly after that. Papers signed. Hands shaken. Victor pauses in front of Elias before leaving. Their eyes meet. Something complicated passes between them.
Regret.
Pride.
Resignation.
Victor says nothing and leaves.
When the doors finally close and the room empties, I turn to Elias fully.
He’s watching me.
Gun still in his hand.
