Chapter 31 - The European Commission’s Gambit
The afternoon heat seemed to drop twenty degrees as the lawyer stood on the stone landing, the wax-sealed envelope still extended between us like a drawn blade.
Roman didn't reach for it. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them until he towered over the envoy. His dark eyes bored into the man’s soul with an intensity that made the lawyer’s breath hitch.
“I don't take propositions from ghosts,” Roman said, his voice quiet, lethal, and absolute. “I burned the Vanguard contracts in Zurich. I threw the master key into the Atlantic. If the commission thinks they can crawl out of their holes and reclaim a seat at my table, they miscalculated who runs this world.”
“We aren't asking for a seat at your table, Mr. Moretti,” the lawyer replied, maintaining his composure despite the palpable wave of terror radiating from Roman. “We are offering you the final piece of the puzzle. The absolute monopoly.”
“Explain,” Roman commanded.
The lawyer lowered the envelope slightly, gesturing toward the open sea where the matte-black yacht bobbed gently on the waves.
“Viktor Sterling was a localized infection. But the true financial arteries connecting the eastern syndicates to the North American markets were never fully mapped by your intelligence teams,” the lawyer said steadily. “In that envelope, you will find the complete ledger of the eastern European shipping lanes, offshore banking vaults in Geneva and Vaduz, and the real identities of the politicians who still think they control the global trade routes.”
I stepped forward beside Roman, my eyes narrowing as I looked at the envelope. “Why give this to us? What do the elders expect in return?”
“Nothing,” the lawyer answered immediately. “They are old men, Mrs. Vance. They survived by knowing when the tide has turned. They recognize that the global economy under your trust is more stable, more profitable, and infinitely more powerful than the chaotic syndicates of the past. They want peace. And they are willing to hand you the keys to the entire eastern hemisphere to secure it.”
Roman stared at the envoy for a long, agonizing moment. The silence of the cove was filled only by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore. He slowly reached out, his large fingers taking the wax-sealed envelope from the lawyer's hands.
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“Tell the elders their gift has been received,” Roman said flatly. “And tell them that if anyone ever steps foot on my property unannounced again, the next envelope won't contain ledgers. It will contain death certificates.”
The lawyer nodded slowly, turned on his heel, and retraced his steps down the cliffside, boarding the zodiac and returning to the matte-black yacht, which disappeared into the horizon within minutes.
