ADRIAN
The meeting room fell silent the moment I stepped inside.
Every allied family was present—every man who once claimed loyalty to the Salvatores, every man who doubted it the second I disappeared. Their eyes followed me as I took my seat at the head of the long table.
One seat remained empty. Lombardi’s. I didn’t bother hiding my disdain.
“I’ll address the obvious first,” I said, voice steady. “Lombardi isn’t here. And I know exactly what he did to my wife.”
A ripple of tension moved through the room.
“He won’t stop,” I continued. “And neither will I. He will pay for it—with his life.”
No one dared breathe. I let the silence stretch, let the weight of my words settle into their bones.
“And now,” I said, leaning back, “let’s talk about the rest of you.”
Several men shifted unc
