Chapter 60: Retaliation

Here's another chapter, and I just want to say for all those folks who think like that, BROMANCE AIN'T GAY, it is one of the MOST purest and bestest relationships to come out of humanity. 

You sit down in the auditorium, look over your shoulder, see another guy like you sitting there clearly bored with whatever's going on stage, well, you decide to start a conversation with him after going through 100s of scenarios, and fuck those scenarios, you hit it off like a goddamn rocket on first try.

You spent the entire day with some guy you never met, never saw, you know nothing literally nothing about him, it's possible that you were so lost in the moment with him, you didn't even bother taking a good, hard look and imprinting his face in your memory. And it was one of the best days of your life.

And guess what, you come home, pick up your phone after lying on your bed and suddenly realize you don't know his name, you don't have his phone number, and thank god the next day you go to your college on your first day, you find him sitting in your class, if that aint gods sign i dont know what is.

So yes Bromance, is a great relastionship and the bond of life for any boy or any man. And I'm not taking no for an answer

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Chapter 60: Retaliation

From this night forward, the underground world had changed forever, though above ground, nothing appeared different.

The Council meeting had lasted nearly two hours, and that only covered general plans. The finer details would take time.

Notably, George didn't assign Ryan or any Black Shield operatives to High Table seats. Their role wasn't political—it was strategic. They worked in the dark, not at round tables.

After the meeting, George asked Saidi to stay behind.

The man sat silently, head lowered.

George didn't waste time.

"Saidi," he said, "was it your idea to bring Philip and Nigo together to retaliate against me? Or did someone whisper in your ear?"

Saidi stood quickly, then dropped to one knee.

"Speaker," he said, voice trembling. "I won't lie to you. The men we lost in Reno—they were our largest force. After I inherited what was left, some old loyalists kept pushing me to retaliate. I refused at first. I knew whoever took them out... wasn't someone I could afford to cross.

"But after the Basini Family was eliminated, they pushed harder. I gave in. They promised Philip a stake in San Francisco and a cut of the cash we recovered. He agreed to help organize the Council meeting. I... I take full responsibility."

George sat back, expression unreadable.

The title "Speaker" had been his idea. No names. No faces. Just a symbol. A myth. Let the world whisper about the Speaker. Let them never know the man behind it.

He nodded slightly. "You're not being punished. You helped me more than you realize. Without that meeting, I couldn't have taken them all at once."

He leaned forward.

"I'm giving you a task. I want names. Was this a misguided loyalty play, or is someone pulling strings behind the curtain? Ryan will assist. Any objections?"

"None, Speaker," Saidi said quickly. "I'll find them. Everyone."

"Good. Do your best. You can go."

Saidi bowed, then left with Ryan.

George stayed seated a moment longer, watching them go.

He didn't expect much. The fact that whoever started this had approached Saidi through intermediaries told him everything. They were careful. Saidi's digging would probably spook them. But even that had its uses. Stir the nest—see who flinches.

George had his suspicions.

He could have conducted the investigation himself, but this time he wanted noise. He wanted eyes to turn. Let the players show their cards.

Because this wasn't a gang dispute. This was bigger.

And George knew where to look.

His enemies were no longer gangsters. They were families who sat at dinner tables made of marble, not concrete. Men who signed billion-dollar checks with the same ease as ordering a drink.

Three names came up first: the Rockefellers, the Morgans, and the DuPonts.

The Rockefellers had oil, pharma, and political clout. Ruthless, but pragmatic. They didn't sabotage—they bought you out.

The Morgans? They ran the banks. As key backers of the Federal Reserve, they'd always get a slice of the pie. They had reason to want more, but not enough to start a war.

That left DuPont.

DuPont had motive and losses.

George's rise had hit them hard. His expansion into weapons manufacturing had threatened their wartime contracts. His investment in General Motors had chipped away at their largest stake. His hold on Winchester and Southern Powder put pressure on their industrial empire.

And his gold mine?

That alone was worth more than their company's valuation last year.

DuPont had the most to lose—and so far, they'd gained nothing from George's success.

That made them dangerous.

Of course, there was no direct evidence. No paper trail. But instincts had kept George alive this long.

Still, he wouldn't strike blindly. Not yet. The game was long. Let them think they were winning.

He glanced down at the Chaos Pearl in his hand, then slipped it into his coat.

Power wasn't always about who hit first.

Sometimes it was about who smiled longest.

And as George stepped back into the shadows, the underworld welcomed its new king.