Chapter 7 - The River Club Confrontation
The River Club was an exclusive, mahogany-paneled private lounge sitting on the forty-fifth floor of the Chicago Financial Center, accessible only to the city’s wealthiest elite.
At 4:00 PM, the rain began to fall once again, streaks of water running down the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the misty skyline.
Sebastian walked into the private dining suite at the end of the corridor, flanked only by Arthur Pendelton and Marcus Cole.
Sitting at a long marble table, sipping a tumbler of twenty-year-old scotch, was Dominic Moretti.
Dominic was thirty-five, impeccably dressed in a tailored Italian suit, with slicked-back dark hair, cold brown eyes, and a thin, dangerous scar running along his left jawline. Behind him stood four broad-shouldered men in dark coats with unmistakable bulges under their arms.
"Sebastian Calder," Dominic said smoothly, setting his glass down with a heavy thud. "The golden boy of Chicago real estate. I've read a lot about you lately. Especially your recent crusade against the Vance family."
Sebastian walked directly to the head of the table, pulling out a leather chair and sitting down slowly, crossing one leg over his knee. He didn't look at Dominic’s armed guards. He acted as if they didn't even exist.
"You filed an illegal lien against my properties today, Moretti," Sebastian said, his tone flat and icy. "You have five minutes to explain why I shouldn't have federal marshals freeze your bank accounts before dinner."
Dominic laughed—a dry, rasping sound.
"Federal marshals don't scare me, Calder," Dominic spat, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the marble table. "Thirty years ago, your father, Charles Calder, betrayed my uncle Victor. He stole our land in River North, falsified the deed, and built Calder House on our family’s blood money."
"My father bought a bankrupt parcel at a public auction," Sebastian corrected coldly. "If your uncle couldn't pay his taxes, that’s his failure, not my father’s."
"My uncle didn't fail!" Dominic roared, slamming his fist onto the table so hard his scotch glass rattled. "Your father bribed the county treasurer to manipulate the tax lien! I have the original hand-signed ledger right here!"
Dominic slammed an old, leather-bound black notebook onto the table between them.
Arthur Pendelton leaned forward, adjusting his glasses to examine the ledger. After thirty seconds of inspection, Arthur looked up at Sebastian, his face pale.
"Sebastian..." Arthur whispered softly. "The signature... it's genuine. Charles Calder’s personal handwriting and seal from 1994."
Dominic smirked victoriously. "That's right. The deed to Calder House is fraudulent. Which means every dollar you've earned from that restaurant for the last fifteen years legally belongs to the Moretti estate. I own your flagship building, Calder. And I’m going to tear it down."
Sebastian stared at the black ledger on the table. For a second, a flicker of dark, painful memories crossed his gray eyes. His father, Charles Calder, had been a cold, ruthless businessman who had abandoned Sebastian and his mother when Sebastian was just a boy, leaving them in poverty while Charles built his empire.
Sebastian didn't care about Charles Calder’s memory. But he cared about Calder House—the place where he had built his life, the place where he had found Lily sleeping on his basement stairs, the place where he had met Maya.
Sebastian slowly reached out and picked up the ledger.
"What do you want, Moretti?" Sebastian asked softly.
Dominic leaned back, a greedy, predatory smile spreading across his face.
"Fifty million dollars in cash," Dominic demanded smoothly. "Plus fifty percent equity in your new foundation in West Loop. Give me that, and I burn this ledger and walk away."
Sebastian’s eyes snapped up, flashing with lethal, terrifying fury.
"You want equity in Maya’s foundation?" Sebastian asked, his voice dropping to an octave so low it sounded like gravel grinding together.
"It's a valuable real estate asset," Dominic shrugged callously. "And I hear the director is very easy on the eyes—"
BANG!
Before Dominic could finish his sentence, Sebastian lunged across the marble table like a unleashed panther. He grabbed Dominic by his expensive silk tie, hauled him across the table, and slammed his face hard against the marble surface.
"AHHH!" Dominic screamed, blood spurting from his broken nose onto the white tablecloth.
Dominic’s four armed guards instantly pulled their weapons, racking the slides.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK!
Before the guards could raise their barrels, the heavy oak doors of the private dining room burst open.
Twenty armed federal tactical officers led by Federal Marshal James Vance (no relation to Marcus Vance) flooded the room, their laser sights pinning red dots onto the chests of all four guards.
"FEDERAL AGENTS! DROP YOUR WEAPONS! NOW!" Marshal Vance bellowed.
Dominic’s guards instantly dropped their guns onto the carpet, raising their hands in utter terror.
Sebastian released Dominic’s tie, letting the bloody crime boss collapse onto the floor, wiping his hands with a cloth napkin.
"What... what is this?!" Dominic choked out through his bleeding nose, staring up at the federal marshals in disbelief.
"Did you really think I came to this meeting alone, Moretti?" Sebastian asked, looking down at him with supreme contempt. "You've been under federal wiretap for international extortion since you landed at O'Hare three hours ago. Arthur filed the federal extortion report at noon."
Marshal Vance stepped forward, pulling Dominic off the floor and snapping heavy steel cuffs around his wrists.
"Dominic Moretti, you're under arrest for federal extortion, racketeering, and illegal interstate threats," Marshal Vance stated calmly, dragging him away.
Dominic glared at Sebastian, spitting blood onto the carpet. "You think you've won, Calder?! Your father was a thief! You live on stolen ground!"
Sebastian picked up the old black ledger from the table, looking at it with a quiet, peaceful expression.
"My father was a thief," Sebastian agreed softly. "But I am not my father."
May you like
He walked over to the roaring stone fireplace at the corner of the lounge and tossed the old leather ledger directly into the flames, watching as the black pages curled into ash.
"Calder House isn't my father's legacy anymore," Sebastian murmured as the fire burned bright. "It's mine. And it belongs to the woman I love."
