"A little discipline?"
I let out a cold laugh and closed the distance between us, one step at a time.
"You shattered both his legs. You call that a little discipline?" My voice cut through the hall. "Dennis, have you forgotten who took a bullet for you when your enemies had you cornered?"
Several of the senior syndicate bosses lowered their heads in shame.
Being called out in front of everyone was more than Dennis could stomach. His face twisted, and he snarled through clenched teeth.
"Margot! Don't push your luck! You're a convicted felon now—you can't touch a single piece of business in the East District!"
He jabbed a finger toward Nellie's belly, using it like a shield for his betrayal.
"Nellie comes from a clean background, and she's carrying my child. She's the only one who can sit in that chair and keep the brothers fed!"
"A clean background?"
I couldn't help it. I laughed—loud and sharp.
"She's an illegitimate daughter planted here by a rival syndicate, and you're standing there talking to me about clean backgrounds? Dennis, is your skull packed with nothing but shit?"
"Shut your mouth!"
Nellie shot to her feet, finger stabbing toward my face.
"You worthless convict! Dennis doesn't want you anymore—what are you doing crawling back here like you have no shame? Someone get her out of here!"
A handful of Dennis's new inner circle closed in immediately, weapons already in hand.
I didn't move. Didn't even lift my gaze.
Christian's men drew their guns in the same breath. Cold, black muzzles leveled directly at the skulls of every last one of those lackeys.
The air in the hall turned to ice.
Dennis pulled Nellie behind him, glaring at Christian.
"Christian Finley! This is the East District! You think you can pull this here?"
Christian adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses with deliberate slowness. A mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips.
"Mr. Henson, I'm simply accompanying my wife to collect what belongs to her. As for your little crew—they're not worth dirtying my hands over."
He turned to me, amusement glinting in his eyes.
"Margot. Get it done. Don't waste time."
I drew a deep breath, forcing down the pain churning in my abdomen, and pulled a battered flash drive from my pocket.
"Dennis, you really thought freezing the accounts and crippling Tyler would be enough to make me bow?"
I held the flash drive high, my voice dropping to something glacial.
"Every dirty transaction you've run for the past five years is on this drive. Every last entry in your secret ledger. One press of a button, and you and your pristine little wife can spend the rest of your lives behind bars."
The color drained from Dennis's face the instant he saw it.
He knew exactly what was on that drive.
Before I went to prison, I'd made a contingency—quietly copying the East District's core transaction records and hiding them where no one would think to look.
"Margot Delgado! You dare threaten me?!"
Dennis snapped. He ripped the pistol from his waistband and leveled it between my eyes.
"Hand over that drive! Or I swear you won't walk out of here alive!"
The tension in the hall was suffocating.
Every person in that room held their breath, unable to believe that Dennis had actually drawn a gun on the woman who once nearly died for him.
Nellie cowered behind his back, venom glittering in her eyes, silently willing the bullet to fly.
I stared down the barrel without blinking.
I knew Dennis better than anyone.
Greedy. Selfish. But underneath all that bluster, he was a coward to the bone.
He would never pull that trigger. He was too afraid of dying, too afraid of losing everything he'd stolen.
"Go ahead. Shoot."
I stepped forward and pressed my forehead against the cold steel of the muzzle.
"Pull the trigger, Dennis. I dare you." My voice was steady, quiet, absolute. "The second my heart stops, this ledger lands on a federal agent's desk. I guarantee it."
