Chapter 7
The suffocating silence of the conservatory was only broken by the heavy, ragged breathing of Penelope, who was practically hyperventilating beneath the collapsed garden cloths. The guests and capos remained absolutely still, not daring to intervene or even whisper as Roxanne crouched over her cousin. The power dynamic in the syndicate had just shifted permanently, and everyone in the room knew they were witnessing history being written.
"What are you going to do?" Penelope gasped, tears finally spilling down her bruised cheeks, ruining her expensive makeup. She tried to pull her legs back, but the soft plant ties were tangled tightly around her strappy heels, trapping her. "You can't kill me in front of all these people, Roxanne. You can't!"
"I can do whatever I please in my own city," Roxanne replied smoothly, her voice a terrifyingly calm murmur. She reached out slowly, her fingers grazing the edge of Penelope's ruined chiffon dress. "You brought violence into my house. You targeted my son. The penalty for touching the bloodline is absolute."
"I was just trying to toughen him up!" Penelope sobbed hysterically, her eyes darting frantically toward the bodyguards blocking the doors. "Harrison told me to do it! He said the boy was making you soft! It was his idea!"
Roxanne’s expression didn't change, but her dark eyes glinted with cold calculation. She slowly stood back up, adjusting her soaking wet deep emerald silk jumpsuit with terrifying elegance. She looked over at the unconscious body of her uncle, Harrison, who was still buried in the wreckage of the bonsai trolley.
"Is that so?" Roxanne asked quietly, turning her gaze toward her most trusted capo, a massive man named Silas who stood near the entrance. "Silas. Wake him up."
Silas nodded grimly. He walked over to the ruined trolley, grabbed Harrison by the collar of his ruined beige linen suit, and hauled the older man roughly to his feet. Harrison groaned, his head lolling to the side as blood dripped from his shattered nose onto his crisp white button-down. Silas slapped him hard across the cheek, jolting him awake.
Harrison blinked rapidly, his vision swimming as he registered the pain radiating through his face and foot. He looked around confusedly before his eyes finally focused on Roxanne, who was standing tall over the weeping Penelope.
"Roxanne..." Harrison coughed, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the wet tile. "You... you have lost your mind. The Commission will hear about this. You struck a senior adviser."
"You are no longer an adviser, Harrison," Roxanne stated coldly, her voice echoing off the glass ceilings. "You are a liability. Penelope claims this entire incident was your orchestration. She says you ordered her to push my son into the water to 'toughen him up.' Is this true?"
Harrison glared at Penelope, a flash of pure hatred crossing his bruised face. He knew his niece was trying to save her own skin by throwing him under the bus. But Harrison was too proud, and too foolish, to deny his involvement.
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"The syndicate is weak because of you, Roxanne," Harrison snarled, trying to stand tall despite Silas's heavy grip on his shoulder. "You treat this empire like a corporate charity. The boy needs to learn fear. I simply permitted Penelope to teach him what you refuse to."
"Thank you for your confession, Harrison," Roxanne said softly. She turned to Silas. "Take them both to the lower levels. The guests have seen enough."
