Chapter 8 - Dawn of the SyndicateThe morning sun broke over Lake Michigan, casting a brilliant orange glow across the towering skyscrapers of Chicago.
Elena stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the suite, dressed in a sharp navy blue pantsuit Victoria had provided. Her reflection looked different—stronger, harder around the edges, tempered by the terrifying reality of the world she had stumbled into.
A knock sounded at the door, followed by Marcus's deep voice.
"Ms. Vance, the Don is waiting for you in the subterranean war room."
Elena took a deep breath, smoothed down her lapels, and opened the door.
The war room was located two floors beneath the penthouse, accessible only by a biometric private elevator. It was a massive, high-tech command center dominated by a giant digital tactical map of Chicago, surrounded by flat-screen monitors displaying live security feeds from every dock, airport, and warehouse in the city.
Dante stood at the head of a stainless-steel conference table, surrounded by half a dozen capos and security chiefs.
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When Elena entered, all eyes turned toward her.
Dante looked up from a dossier, his gaze sharp and appraising. "Glad to see you're punctual today, Ms. Vance."
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