Chapter 4 - Fire and Glass
The trap was sprung on a freezing Saturday night at the Gallagher-owned grand hotel downtown, where the annual corporate gala served as the perfect public facade for a private tribunal. Ronan had invited the entire syndicate board, including Marcus and Victor, under the guise of signing a multi-million-dollar logistics merger. I walked through the ballroom doors not in a pale blue waitress uniform, but in a structured midnight-blue gown Ronan had procured for me, my hair pinned back, and my shoulder held straight despite the lingering ache. Whispers rippled through the elite crowd as the feared mafia boss entered with a former diner waitress on his arm. Marcus turned pale as a sheet when our eyes locked across the crystal chandeliers. As the toasts began, Ronan didn't waste time with pleasantries; he stepped up to the podium, tapped his glass, and projected his voice across the silent hall. "Before we discuss any business partnerships," Ronan announced smoothly, "we need to address an internal security leak—specifically, the execution of Thomas Vance seven years ago." Panic broke out instantly among the older capos. Marcus lunged forward, drawing a concealed weapon with a desperate cry, but Ronan was faster. Before Marcus could clear his holster, the heavy oak doors burst open, and federal agents—marshaled by evidence Ronan had quietly compiled over the past week—swarmed the ballroom, alongside our loyal security team. Chaos erupted as glass shattered and shouts echoed off the marble walls, but Ronan pulled me behind a massive structural pillar, his body shielding me completely from the madness. The empire was tearing itself apart, but in the center of the wreckage, the truth was finally dragging itself into the light.
