Chapter 6 - The Whispers of the Board
The honeymoon phase of their alliance, however, did not sit well with every faction within the sprawling Romano enterprise.
Two days after their dinner at the Hancock Center, an emergency meeting of the senior syndicate captains was called in the subterranean briefing room of the Lincoln Park estate.
Marco stood near the projection screen as old-guard capos—men who had served under Gabriele’s father—murmured among themselves in low, discontented tones.
The heavy steel door swung open, and Gabriele walked in, his arm protectively around Federica’s waist. She wore a sharp charcoal pantsuit, carrying her signature steel-reinforced clipboard under her arm.
The room went dead silent.
"What is the meaning of this?" Vincent Rossi, an aging capo with a scarred jaw and cold, suspicious eyes, stood up from the end of the mahogany table. "Since when do we bring civilian bean-counters into high-level tactical briefings? This is family business, Gabriele. Syndicate business."
Gabriele didn't blink. He guided Federica to the head of the table, pulling out the primary leather chair for her before taking his own seat beside her.
"Federica isn't a civilian anymore, Vincent," Gabriele stated, his voice ringing with absolute finality. "As of this morning, she has been appointed Chief Operations Officer of Romano Holdings, with full executive oversight over all financial and logistical assets across the Midwest."
An uproar erupted around the table. Capos slammed their fists on the wood, shouting objections.
"She's an auditor!" Rossi barked, leaning over the table. "She doesn't know the streets! She doesn't understand how we handle our business—"
Before Rossi could finish his sentence, Federica stepped forward.
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't flinch. She simply placed her steel clipboard down on the table with a sharp, echoing clack.
"Vincent Rossi," Federica said calmly, her green eyes fixing on the veteran capo with clinical precision. "Shall we discuss the three hundred thousand dollars missing from the Cicero shipping terminal’s maintenance fund over the last six months? Or would you prefer to explain why your nephew’s shell company in Delaware has been billing Romano Holdings for phantom security upgrades that were never installed?"
Rossi’s face turned the color of curdled milk. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Around the table, the other capos exchanged uneasy, wide-eyed glances.
Federica pushed her glasses up her nose, her voice cutting through the silence like a scalpel. "Numbers don’t lie, gentlemen. And neither do I. If any of you have a problem with my position, you can either resign by noon today, or you can look at the forensic audit reports I’ve already forwarded to Mr. Romano’s private terminal. The choice is yours."
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Gabriele sat back in his chair, watching her with undisguised pride and a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face.
The room was completely, utterly silent.
