Chapter 8 - The Council of Five Families
The Union League of Philadelphia was a cathedral of old money and dark power.
Massive oil paintings of Gilded Age barons lined the wood-paneled walls.
Sitting around the forty-foot conference table were forty syndicate capos, three
retired federal judges, and the heads of the East Coast families.
At the far end sat Senator Thomas Ashton, wearing an immaculate charcoal suit.
Beside him was Brielle, dabbing theatrical tears with a lace handkerchief.
“Adrian Marzano has lost his mind!” Senator Ashton proclaimed to the room.
“He attacked my home! He wrecked public infrastructure on the Delaware River! He
is unstable and unfit to manage the port logistics!”
Murmurs of agreement rumbled among the older capos.
The double doors swung open with a resounding crash.
Adrian walked in.
Tailored black three-piece suit.
Pristine white collar.
Not a trace of hesitation in his stride.
And walking beside him, holding his left hand, was Lucy.
She wore a clean navy dress and patent-leather shoes.
I walked on her other side, holding a leather folder of evidence.
The room fell into stunned silence.
“You bring a child to a commission tribunal, Marzano?” an old capo from New York
scoffed.
“I bring the victim of a kidnapping,” Adrian replied, his voice ringing through
the hall.
He pulled out a chair at the center of the table and lifted Lucy onto it.
Brielle went pale as bone.
“Senator Ashton claims I am unfit,” Adrian continued, looking across the table
at the Ashton patriarch.
“Let my daughter speak for herself.”
Senator Ashton sneered.
“The girl is mute! She cannot testify under syndicate law!”
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“She isn't mute,” I said, stepping forward with my chin held high.
“She has a language. And I am her interpreter.”
