Chapter 6 - THE GRAND SUMMIT
The Grand Ballroom of the Bellevue Hotel was a sight of opulent terror. Crystal chandeliers hung from thirty-foot ceilings, illuminating tables lined with the heads of Baltimore's seven major crime families. Armed guards stood posted at every entrance.
When the heavy doors swung open, a collective hush fell over the room.
Dante Castellano walked in, looking like royalty in a tailored black tuxedo. But it wasn't his presence that caught everyone's breath—it was the woman on his arm.
Rosie looked breathtaking. She wore an elegant floor-length emerald green satin gown that highlighted her delicate curves. Her dark hair was swept up, gracefully exposing the faint surgical scar behind her ear without an ounce of shame. Beside her, walking calmly on a thick leather leash, was Titan, wearing a custom leather harness.
The heads of the families whispered in shock. The terrifying pitbull that had slaughtered dozens of men was walking calmly beside a stunning young woman like a refined royal guard.
At the center table sat Marcus Vance, his face twisted in a mixture of shock and fury.
"Castellano," Vance growled, standing up. "You bring a dog and a laundry girl to a summit of the Council?"
Dante pulled out a plush velvet chair for Rosie, ensuring she was comfortably seated before he turned to face the room. He rested one hand casually on Titan's head.
"I bring my family to the Council," Dante replied, his voice ringing loud and clear through the ballroom. "And I suggest you mind your tongue, Vance, before Titan remembers what your blood tastes like."
Vance slammed his hand onto the table. "This is an outrage! Castellano has lost his mind! He’s let a deaf girl control his operations!"
Rosie stood up. She didn't hesitate. She looked directly at Vance, her clear, ringing voice silencing the whispers in the room.
"I may be deaf in my left ear, Mr. Vance," Rosie said with absolute composure, "but I can hear the desperation in your voice perfectly fine. You couldn't defeat Dante on the streets, so you tried to kill me in my sleep. That doesn't make you a syndicate leader. It makes you a coward."
A quiet hum of laughter and subtle nods circulated among the older mafia bosses at the surrounding tables. Vance’s face turned bright red with humiliation.
"You little bitch—" Vance reached into his jacket.
CLICK.
Before Vance could pull his weapon, thirty red laser dots instantly painted his chest. Dante’s men, stationed in the upper balconies, had their rifles trained directly on him.
Dante stepped forward, his eyes cold enough to freeze blood.
"Touch a weapon, Marcus," Dante said softly, "and your body won't even hit the floor before my men turn you into dust."
The eldest boss of the Council, an old Italian man named Don Carmine, stood up and struck his heavy cane against the floor.
"Enough!" Carmine barked. He looked at Dante, then at Rosie, and finally at Titan, who stood calm and fierce beside her. "The Council has seen enough. Vance, you violated the ancient law by attacking a boss's home and his woman. Your territory on Pier 42 is forfeited to the Castellano family immediately."
Vance shook with rage, but he knew he was completely outmatched. He glared at Rosie with pure hatred. "This isn't over," he hissed under his breath before turning and sweeping out of the room with his remaining men.
Dante turned to Rosie, a proud, breathtaking smile breaking across his handsome face. He reached out, pulling her into his arms right there in front of the entire underworld council.
"You were magnificent," Dante whispered into her ear.
May you like
"I meant what I said," Rosie replied, holding his gaze. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you."
Dante kissed her deeply, sealing his claim before the entire city. But as the applause of the Council echoed through the room, Rosie caught sight of a shadowy figure standing near the emergency exit—a man holding a phone, watching her every move.
