Chapter 9 - The Trial of Chicago
The grand ballroom of the Blackstone Hotel was filled with the smoke of expensive cigars and the heavy, silent tension of a execution. The heads of the five families of Chicago sat around a massive circular mahogany table, surrounded by their top captains and bodyguards. At the head of the table sat Don Carmine, the oldest living member of the commission—a man with white hair, pale blue eyes, and a reputation for cold, unbiased justice.
Roman Castello entered the room alone, his long black coat open, revealing his flawless charcoal suit. He didn't look like a man under trial; he looked like a king arriving to inspect his court. He sat down in the empty chair across from Don Carmine, his hands resting flat on the polished wood.
"You called an emergency meeting, Roman," Don Carmine said, his voice a low, raspy rattle. "And you brought Lorenzo Marcone and Dr. Vance in chains to our basement. The Marcone family is claiming you violated territorial agreements and stole their assets. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Roman didn't answer immediately. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out the thick leather folder Pamela had recovered from the winery, and tossed it into the center of the table.
"Lorenzo Marcone didn't buy a surrogate, Carmine," Roman said, his voice echoing clearly through the silent room. "He harvested my heirs from a citizen of this city. He used Dr. Vance to forge stillborn records for a girl named Pamela Hayes, stole her children from the delivery room at St. Brigid’s, and sold them to my wife under a front company to use as a political weapon against me."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the captains.
Lorenzo, his hand wrapped in a thick white bandage, shouted from the back of the room where two of Roman’s men held him. "He’s lying! Those kids aren't Castello blood! Elena’s surrogacy contract was legal! He’s trying to hide the fact that his line is illegitimate!"
Roman stood up, his height dominating the room. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a second document—the official DNA comparison profile certified by Dr. Catherine Alba.
"The triplets carry the genetic markers of Pamela Hayes, Carmine," Roman said, looking directly into the old man's eyes. "But they also carry mine. Lorenzo Marcone thought he was being clever by picking a random girl from Bridgeport. He didn't realize his front company selected the exact same surrogate agency where I had deposited my own genetic material five years ago when Elena first got sick. He didn't steal a stranger’s children to give to me. He stole my children from the woman who carried them."
The ballroom went deathly silent. Lorenzo’s face turned a pale, ash-gray as the sheer brilliance of his own undoing became clear. He had tried to build a trap, but his own greed had selected the perfect biological match, ensuring that the children were completely, legally, and biologically Roman’s and Pamela’s.
Don Carmine picked up the files, his old eyes scanning the contracts and the DNA markers. He looked up at Lorenzo, his expression turning into one of profound disgust.
"You broke the first rule of the commission, Lorenzo," Carmine said, his voice flat and final. "You brought a citizen into our wars. You stole children from a mother's womb to use as leverage against a sitting Don. The Marcone name is stripped of its seat on this council. Your territories are forfeited to the Castello family."
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Carmine looked back at Roman, a small nod of respect passing between the two men. "The children are recognized as the legal heirs to the Castello empire. Do what you want with the traitors."
Roman didn't wait for the guards to drag Lorenzo and Vance out. He turned and walked out of the ballroom, his mind already leaving the dark, blood-stained world of the commission behind. He was done with the shadows. He had a family to go home to.
