Chapter 5 - The Throne Reclaimed
Three months later, the sun rose over the New York harbor, illuminating the massive cargo cranes and container ships gliding smoothly past the South Street Seaport.
Inside the executive boardroom on the top floor of the Corvino Tower, the city’s most powerful union leaders, shipping magnates, and financial backers sat around a massive glass conference table in absolute, reverent silence.
The double doors swung open.
Tessa walked in first, wearing a tailored charcoal pantsuit that commanded the room, holding a digital tablet with the morning manifests. Behind her, rolling smoothly in a custom-engineered, carbon-fiber motorized wheelchair, came Vincent Corvino.
His shoulders were broader than ever, his suit impeccable, his dark eyes scanning the room with the unyielding authority of a king who had descended into hell and walked back out through the fire.
He didn't need to stand to make men tremble.
The entire boardroom stood up as one man, lowering their heads in unanimous deference.
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Vincent rested his hands on the armrests of his chair, looked out across the glittering skyline of the city he now owned outright, and smiled a cold, triumphant smile.
They had thought a bullet in the spine could bury him. They didn't realize that a true king doesn't need legs to conquer a kingdom—especially when he has the right queen standing right behind him.
