Chapter 11 - The Queen's Gambit
The old iron foundry was vast, shadowy, and filled with armed men. Over fifty high-ranking syndicate capos, including Victor Volkov and representatives from the other three ruling families, stood around a massive steel conference table. Thomas Dixon stood at the head, sweating profusely, gesturing wildly.
"Larkin has lost his mind!" Thomas shouted to the room. "He raided my private logistics hub! He froze syndicate liquidity! He’s handing our operations over to a nobody clerk!"
The heavy iron doors groaned open.
Larkin Steves walked in, flanked by only two bodyguards. And right beside him, walking with absolute poise and authority, was Penelope Woods.
Guns were drawn across the room. The metallic click of twenty safeties disengaging echoed off the concrete walls.
"Thomas," Larkin's voice cut through the cavernous space like a whip. "You're sitting in my chair."
"You don't have a chair anymore, cousin!" Thomas yelled, signaling his remaining loyalists. "Kill him!"
"Wait!"
Penelope’s voice rang out, clear, authoritative, and completely devoid of fear. She stepped forward, tossing the silver flash drive onto the center of the steel table.
"Before anyone opens fire, I suggest Mr. Volkov and Don Moretti check their private satellite accounts," Penelope said, her gaze sweeping over the dangerous men in the room. "Five minutes ago, I uploaded the decryption keys for Thomas Dixon's private offshore accounts."
Victor Volkov pulled out a secure tablet, his eyes narrowing as he reviewed the incoming data stream. Don Moretti did the same.
"Thomas didn't just steal from the Steves syndicate," Penelope announced, stepping directly into the center of the room. "Over the last twenty-four months, he diverted 4.2 million dollars from the Bratva dock contracts, and 6 million from Moretti's import network. He used your money to pay for a private army to assassinate Larkin and seize control of all five territories."
The air in the foundry turned to liquid ice.
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Victor Volkov looked up from his tablet, his eyes burning with murderous fury. He slowly turned his gaze to Thomas. "Is this true, Dixon?"
"She's lying! She's a damn secretary!" Thomas screamed, his face turning ghostly white as every gun in the room slowly shifted away from Larkin and aimed directly at him.
