One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 08

One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 08

An hour later, in the conference room.

The huge screen was split into six panels, displaying the faces of Consigliere Silas and the four other core Capos.

Julian sat opposite me, his face a dark mask of fury.

He had changed his clothes and straightened his hair, but it couldn’t hide the exhaustion or the bloodshot veins in his eyes.

I noticed his tie was crooked.

For a man who had always been so meticulous, it was a glaring sign of his unraveling.

I impassively averted my gaze.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” I spoke first, my voice carrying clearly to each participant. “I’ve called this emergency sit-down to address an urgent matter that is severely impacting our family’s reputation and interests.”

I gave him no time to recover, immediately projecting the tattoo photo and the screenshot of my message onto the central screen.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard rumors about the Don over the past two days. Now, I will show you the source of those rumors.”

On the screen, the members’ expressions turned guarded.

They were all veterans of the underworld, accustomed to scandals.

But for one of their own to air the family’s dirty laundry in a formal meeting

like this was unheard of.

“Aurelia! That’s enough!” Julian growled, trying to stop me.

“I’m not finished.” I silenced him with a single, cold glance.

I turned back to the screen.

“On the surface, this appears to be a domestic dispute. But in reality, it has escalated into a serious reputational crisis.”

I projected the family’s operations loss report for the day.

The list of lost territories stung everyone’s eyes.

“In a single day, the family has lost nearly ten million dollars in laundered assets. And all of it stems from the Don’s improper personal conduct and the manipulative assistant at his side.”

“Aurelia,” a member named Marcus, who oversaw the syndicate’s port smuggling, spoke up. “We acknowledge this has affected business.”

“However, this is a temporary fluctuation in market sentiment. To propose removing the Don over something like this… isn’t that an overreaction?”

His words echoed the thoughts of most of the members.

They cared more about profits than the Don’s private life.

“Marcus, what if I told you this isn’t just ‘something’?” I looked him straight in the eye. “What if this assistant, Cassia, is an undercover rat sent by a rival family?”

The statement sent a shockwave through the virtual room.

Even Julian’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at

“What nonsense are you spouting!”

“The evidence will determine what’s nonsense.”

I sent a quick message to Sloane.

A moment later, a file appeared in my email.

I projected it onto the screen.

“Cassia Shaw, female, 25. Graduated from an ordinary state university, but her resume was falsified to claim a degree from Stanford.”

“Her father disappeared three years ago over gambling debts; his

whereabouts are unknown.”

“As for Cassia, before joining our family, she had no assets. But three months ago, an anonymous deposit of two million dollars appeared in her account.”

“From that point on, she began purchasing luxury goods and bought a home for her mother in an exclusive Manhattan apartment building.”

With every sentence I spoke, Julian’s face grew a shade paler.

On the screen, the transaction records, spending lists, and a copy of the purchase agreement were irrefutable.

“How does an assistant on a fifteen-thousand-dollar monthly salary afford all

this?” I asked the room.

The conference room was dead silent.

“Now, I’d like to show you one more piece of information.”

The name of another family appeared on the screen.

“The Volkov family.”

Our main rival in Chicago.

“The anonymous party who transferred the money to Cassia, after tracing the offshore routing, was ultimately linked to a Capo of the Volkov family.”

“And more interestingly, before joining us, Cassia had a three-month work history on Volkov territory. An experience that was erased from her resume.”

“Now, does everyone still think this is just a simple romantic scandal?”

No one answered.

They were all stunned silent by the barrage of revelations.

Julian’s body was trembling.

He looked from the information on the screen to me, his eyes filled with a

storm of shock, anger, and pain.

He had been kept in the dark from the very beginning.

The “innocent” subordinate he’d so “soft-heartedly” protected was a venomous snake he’d welcomed into his den.

“Therefore,” I concluded, “I propose the immediate removal of Julian Griffin

from the position of Don, and the formation of a crew to investigate the breach of our omertà and assess the damage to our fronts.”

“I object!” a voice suddenly cut in.

It was Julian.

He stood up, his eyes red as he glared at me.

“Aurelia, even if Cassia is a problem, it was my failure of judgment! I am willing to take full responsibility!”

“But you cannot use this to take my family from me!”

“Your family?” I laughed, a cold, humorless sound. “Julian, have you forgotten? Half of this family is mine!”

“Now, I call for a vote,” I ignored him, facing the screen. “All those in favor of removing Julian Griffin as Don and appointing me as acting Don, please raise your hand.”

I was the first to raise my hand.

Immediately, in Silas’s video panel, an old hand went up.

Then, Vincent, who represented the laundering arm, raised his.

He was clearly spooked by the ten-million-dollar loss and the mention of a

rat.

Three votes.

I needed one more.

The remaining two, Marcus and Elena, were hesitating, their gazes flickering between Julian and me as they weighed their options.

Just then, Julian’s phone began to ring frantically.

He glanced at the caller ID, his expression changing drastically, and he immediately declined the call.

But the caller was persistent. It rang again.

Under everyone’s gaze, he finally answered, his voice tight with anger.

“I told you, I’m in a meeting! What is it!”

The person on the other end said something.

Julian’s face went from ashen to a deathly gray.

The hand holding the phone began to tremble violently.

“What did you say… say that again…”

His voice was filled with a terror he didn’t even realize was there.

“Okay… okay… I’ll be right there…”

He hung up and looked at me, his eyes lost.

His lips moved, but no sound came out.

Finally, as if all his strength had been drained, he collapsed back into his

chair.

“I agree…” he murmured. “I agree… to step down…”