Chapter 12 - The Boston Campaign
Julian did not wait two weeks to move.
Three days after the attack, despite the doctor’s protests, he sat in his study with Dominic Vale and three other senior bosses from the East Coast syndicates. The air in the room was tense, the mahogany desk covered in financial maps of the New England territory.
"Arthur Vance has been using his construction unions to smuggle illicit cargo through the Boston ports for ten years," Julian said, his voice cold and precise. "His son, Derek, thinks he can use that power to launch personal attacks in my territory. This is a breach of our treaty."
Dominic Vale took a slow drag of his cigar, his eyes narrowing through the smoke. "Arthur Vance is a greedy old bastard, Julian. But he’s powerful. If we go after his son, we start a war that will disrupt the shipping lines from Maine to Jersey."
"Not if we take his assets first," a voice said from the doorway.
The men turned. Maya stood in the entrance, wearing a sharp, tailored black suit that matched the intensity of the men in the room. She carried a thick leather folder under her arm.
"And who is this?" one of the Miami bosses asked, his brow furrowing.
"My fiancée," Julian said, his hand gesturing for her to enter. "And the woman who knows where Arthur Vance hides his ledgers."
Maya walked to the desk, opening the folder and laying out several printed documents. "For three years, Derek made me manage his father’s residential leasing office in Boston. I kept the books. I know about the shell companies Arthur uses to hide the union kickbacks. If you seize these accounts, Arthur Vance won't have the money to pay his security team, let alone fight a war with New York."
May you like
Dominic Vale looked at the documents, then up at Maya. A slow, respectful smile spread across his weathered face.
"I told you she was made of steel, Julian," Dominic said, raising his cigar.
