Mafia Boss's Fiancée Hurt the New Maid — His Reaction Left Everyone Speechless

Six months later.

The Grand Council Chamber of the Chicago Syndicate was located beneath an unmarked industrial warehouse near the docks—a subterranean room of stone and dark oak where the leaders of the city's five major families met once a year to settle disputes, approve territory shifts, and execute syndicate justice.

At the center of the massive round table sat the five Dons.

Enzo Marchetti sat at the head position, representing the largest and most powerful family. Across from him sat Don Carmine Moretti, an seventy-year-old veteran of the syndicate who acted as the Council's chief magistrate.

Bound to a heavy wooden chair in the center of the room sat Arthur Ashford. His clothes were rumpled, his hair unkempt, his once-arrogant posture crushed under six months of life as a fugitive before Enzo's enforcers had tracked him down in a private estate in Miami.

Beside Enzo stood Dr. Adeline Croft-Marchetti.

She wore a striking emerald green dress that matched her engagement ring, her dark hair styled in elegant waves. In her hands, she carried a thick leather portfolio containing the final, unassailable medical and financial evidence of Arthur Ashford's crimes against the syndicate.

"The Council is called to order," Don Carmine rasped, tapping a heavy wooden gavel against the table. "We are gathered to hear the charges brought by House Marchetti against House Ashford."

Arthur Ashford lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot, glaring at Adeline with pure hatred. "This is a farce! You're letting a woman—a disgraced surgeon—dictate syndicate law? She poisoned my daughter's reputation! She stole my family's legacy!"

Adeline didn't flinch. She stepped forward to the center of the stone chamber, her voice cool, clear, and commanding as it bounced off the damp stone walls.

"Gentlemen of the Council," Adeline began, opening her portfolio. "Over the past six months, operating under full medical authorization from the State Attorney's Office and the Syndicate Commission, I have conducted a comprehensive forensic audit of Ashford Pharmaceuticals."

She placed four thick bound volumes on the center of the round table.

"Exhibit A," she said smoothly. "Ledgers proving that Arthur Ashford siphoned $45 million from the shared Syndicate Pension Fund over a seven-year period. Exhibit B: Chemical production logs proving he manufactured digitalis compounds used in the slow poisoning of Don Antonio Marchetti and Don Bernardo Rossi of the South Side family."

Don Carmine's eyes snapped open at the mention of Don Bernardo Rossi—his close ally who had died three years ago under identical, suspicious circumstances.

"What did you say?" Carmine growled, leaning forward, his old hands gripping the table. "Bernardo?"

"Page forty-two of volume two, Don Carmine," Adeline stated calmly. "The blood analysis from Don Bernardo's preserved medical files matches the toxicological fingerprint of the digitalis batches produced in Arthur Ashford's private laboratory."

A heavy, dangerous murmur rippled through the other Dons at the table. Guns were subtly unholstered beneath silk suit jackets.

Arthur Ashford began to sweat profusely, his eyes darting wildly toward the exits, but two of Enzo's top enforcers stood guard at every door.

"You lie!" Arthur screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. "She's making it up! Enzo paid her to forge those documents!"

"I am a board-certified trauma surgeon, Mr. Ashford," Adeline said coldly, stepping right up to his chair, looking down at him with absolute contempt. "I took an oath to preserve life. You took an oath to serve this Council, and you broke it for greed and cowardice. Science does not lie. The dead do not lie."

Don Carmine slowly stood up from his seat. He looked at the medical records, then at Adeline, offering her a slow, respectful nod of his head.

"The evidence is absolute," Carmine declared, his voice echoing like thunder in the subterranean chamber. "Arthur Ashford is found guilty of treason against the Five Families, embezzlement of syndicate funds, and the murder of two Dons."

Carmine turned to Enzo. "Don Marchetti. The punishment rests in your hands."

Enzo stood up slowly. He pulled a silver fountain pen from his breast pocket and tossed it onto the table in front of Arthur.

"Sign over the remaining shares of Ashford Pharmaceuticals to the Syndicate Pension Trust," Enzo commanded quietly. "Every cent you stole will be returned to the families you betrayed."

Arthur, trembling violently, grabbed the pen with slick fingers and signed the transfer documents in thirty seconds flat. "I signed it! I signed it! Now let me go! You promised exile!"

Enzo looked down at him, his dark eyes colder than the winter lake outside.

"I promised you wouldn't be killed in Chicago, Arthur," Enzo said softly. "The authorities in federal custody are waiting for you at the state line. You will spend the rest of your natural life in a maximum-security prison for corporate murder."

Two federal marshals, invited under high-level syndicate immunity, stepped out from the shadows near the rear exit, snapped heavy steel handcuffs onto Arthur Ashford's wrists, and dragged him out of the chamber.

The room fell into a respectful silence.

Don Carmine walked around the table, holding out his hand toward Adeline. "Dr. Croft-Marchetti. You have brought honor and truth back to this Council. In forty years, I have never seen a woman hold this room with such power."

Adeline shook the old Don's hand with a firm, practiced grip. "Truth is a powerful medicine, Don Carmine. It clears out the rot before it can kill the host."