The biting wind howled through the iron gates of the Cole estate, sweeping loose flurries across the stone courtyard.

The High Commission of the Midwest Underground convened in the grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel in downtown Chicago.

The room was legendary—gilded ceilings, massive crystal chandeliers, and a long, horseshoe-shaped oak table where the leaders of nine major crime families gathered to settle disputes, establish territories, and enforce the ancient laws of their world.

Victor Moretti sat near the center of the table, flanked by four heavily armed bodyguards. He was a man in his late fifties, with slicked-back gray hair, a sharp nose, and a permanent, arrogant smirk.

"Don Cole is late," Victor announced to the room, looking at his gold pocket watch. "The rules of the Commission state that if a party fails to appear within fifteen minutes of the summoned hour, the tribunal rules in favor of the claimant."

An older Don sitting across the table, Don Gianna of the Detroit family, frowned. "Adrian Cole is not a man who misses meetings, Victor. Have patience."

"I have no patience for a man who raids my facilities in the middle of the night!" Victor spat, slamming his hand on the table. "Last night, Adrian Cole launched an unprovoked attack on my Elgin logistics hub! He injured eleven of my men and kidnapped my brother Dominic!"

Before the other Commission members could respond, the heavy double doors at the back of the ballroom were thrown open.

A cold breeze swept through the grand room as Adrian Cole walked down the red-carpeted aisle.

He wore a tailored charcoal three-piece suit, his posture straight, his expression an unreadable mask of absolute power. Walking beside him was Marcus Vance, carrying a heavy leather briefcase.

And trotting calmly at Adrian’s left hip was Titan.

Gasps echoed through the room as the crime bosses saw the massive black dog walking without a leash, his dark eyes scanning the room with calm, terrifying authority.

"What is the meaning of this, Cole?" Victor shouted, standing up from his chair. "You bring a wild beast into the Commission chambers? This is a direct violation of protocol!"

"Sit down, Victor," Adrian said softly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the vast ballroom.

"I will not sit down!" Victor roared. "I demand the Commission vote on an immediate declaration of war against the Cole estate! He attacked my property and took my brother!"

Adrian stopped at the foot of the horseshoe table. Titan sat down beside him, his heavy body rigid, his gaze locked onto Victor.

"I didn't attack your property, Victor," Adrian said, signaling to Marcus. "I recovered stolen Cole family assets. And I apprehended a traitor who aided in the murder of a family member."

Marcus stepped forward, opening the briefcase and slamming a thick stack of documents onto the center of the table.

"These are the forensic reports from the Elgin safe," Marcus declared to the Commission. "Alongside certified testimony from state medical examiners and handwriting experts. Six months ago, Victor Moretti ordered the kidnapping and eventual murder of Sarah Vance."

Victor’s face twitched, though he quickly forced a laugh. "Sarah Vance was a low-level civilian! What does her death have to do with the Commission?"

"Sarah Vance was the lawful wife of the late Don Julian Cole," Adrian stated, his voice cutting through Victor’s fake laughter like an axe. "And six months ago, she gave birth to Julian's direct heir—a daughter named Lily Cole."

The ballroom erupted into instant chaos. The leaders of the nine families leaned forward, shouting, arguing, and demanding to see the documents.

"That's a lie!" Victor screamed, his face turning beet red. "Julian had no heir! This is a manufactured play by Adrian to consolidate power!"

"The child is currently under my protection at the Cole estate," Adrian said, his dark eyes fixing onto Victor with lethal intensity. "Her DNA has been verified by three independent laboratories. She holds the primary deed to the Illinois transit corridors—the very land Victor tried to steal using a forged signature dated after Sarah’s death."

Don Gianna picked up the documents, reviewing the forensic analysis and the forged deeds with a grim expression. He looked up at Victor, his eyes filled with disgust.

"This signature is a clear fake, Victor," Gianna said sternly. "And murdering the wife of a sitting Don to steal family land is punishable by total forfeiture of all family assets."

Victor realized he was losing the room. His hands shook as he looked around at the cold, unyielding faces of his peers.

"You think you can ruin me with paper?" Victor snarled, dropping all pretenses of innocence. He reached into his coat, reaching for his concealed weapon. "I'll kill you where you stand, Cole!"