Chapter 41 - Madam

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Marble pillars stretched out before her as the scarlet carpet dried the dirt on the tips of her heels. Her sari hung off her and trailed behind her, shades of navy blending with the golden edges her attire had.

The bodyguards surrounding her were just as elegant as her, donning dark suits that had not a spec of light on them. Even their faces were covered with masks and glasses. She spotted their pistols holstered by their sides. There was a sizable portion of her that wished for a weapon of her own.

Self defense was trained to everyone in her palace. All the High Council members were excellent fighters she hand selected for that reason. She had never liked the violent fights despite having muscles that would make her a solid hand-to-hand combatant. She preferred a diplomatic solution. That was why bodyguards surrounded her at every turn.

The palace itself was overflowing with life. The flag of England was strung over each arch on her left and right. The halls were wide and as colorful as ever. She passed several guards on her way down.

Portraits of the previous leaders were hung up as well. There was Sir Jeon, the one who was her predecessor. A long line of Madam's and Sir's were there. One day, Madam Amara would join the list. That day was not today, and likely not for several years to come. The Underworld was hers. Mostly.

Her palace was located on a hill overlooking much of London. Every other week she sat on her balcony and watched the fireworks display. The other High Council members didn't visit as often as they used to, but they came by to get new assignments and see the progress. They saved much of their formal talk for the meetings they disguised as parties and concerts. Speaking of, they had a concert coming up.

Madam adored her parties and what they brought. Not only was it a wonderful financial opportunity for the Council, but it also brought more security. The more people, the more likely they could slip through the crowds unnoticed. This wasn't their first rodeo. They knew how many have killed to find their meeting locations. Taking out the High Council would mean causing chaos in the Underworld. So, they stopped hiding. Any trained mafia knew the High Council was hiding behind appearances like parties and concerts. She wanted them to come. She wanted to let them come to die.

Her office was attached to her balcony. As she slipped inside it, her guards remaining outside to cover the door, she noticed how bright the light was. Bookshelves with decorative vines and flowers were pressed against the wall. The giant wooden shelf contrasted the white and gold theme of the room. Her desk was spruce wood, the laptop on it shut. There were several laptops she had in case that one failed. It was the single most precious piece of hardware in the entire Underworld. It oversaw each kill order, each gold coin shipment, each report from the countless districts around the globe.

She sat and opened the device, typing in her password and doing her fingerprint before she was in. There was a report from Tokyo, Japan, and it was written in fairly decent English. Nothing of note. The district leader was whining about how gold coins have been scarce. That was because they weren't spending as much. The Underworld was massive in Japan, yet they somehow managed to make it seem small. It'd be impressive if it wasn't so sad.

Italy had a report as well. Venice, to be more specific. All the same. Gold coins, requests for visits, important figures dying. It blurred together. The kill orders were the only interesting part.She tapped her acrylic nails against the side of the machine, her eyes peeking at the light colored carpets making up the area. There were two couches surrounding a wooden coffee table, but there were no decorations on the surface.

A distraction came in the form of a notification. It was an email from Maine. When she opened it, she saw pictures of the ones she was learning to despise. There was Charlotte Evermore, Jericho Novak, Seong Jimin. All of them made her veins steam inside her.

After years of building her reputation as a diplomat, she broke into the mafia scene and saved the life of Sir Jeon. From there, she became a member of the High Council. And after, she was elected the leader. The single most important figure in the Underworld. Now, all of that was threatened by a group of children who thought they knew what they were doing.

Seeing as the report detailed Byun June's death, it seemed as though they weren't winning. Then, she saw the face of Holden. A Council member was killed. It was a trade off. One Council member for one of their own. That was 3 out of 12. 3 out of 12 of the Council had been slaughtered by these immature misfits, and they didn't have the time to scout out new, competent members.

Holden's death brought a pang to her heart. Her fingers and body ached from the realization that her colleagues, and dare she say friends, were being picked off one by one. And for what? To protect the lives of Asa and Theo, who decided to make the first move. Madam was firing back at them. They struck first. She was defending her territory. Why did Holden have to suffer for that?

Madam exited out of the report. There were assassins all over the world looking for them. Assassins flying to New York to track them down. Assassins from as far as Australia joined the hunt. There was no way they'd slip through her fingers. Not anymore. They were getting more aggressive. That meant they were close to finding her.

She decided to let them.

With a single button press, a guard entered her room and bowed his head as he approached. She waved the formality off and leaned back in her cushioned seat, the chair making a squish as she did.

"Let them find us," she said. The entire Underworld knew who 'them' was. The dangerous them that were growing too dangerous for her liking. "Draw them to one of our concert meetings. They'll take the bait and we'll kill them there."

"And if they get through our defenses?"

"Are you saying I'm not surrounded by the best in the Underworld?"

"No, Madam. I'm suggesting a backup plan in case our plan goes wrong. They may be outnumbered, but they're dangerous. Jericho was next in line for High Council and possibly your throne. There's a reason for that. I advise we have backup plans if it comes down to it."

She considered his words, then hummed. "Very well. You're dismissed. Thank you." He bowed again much to her dismay, departing as fast as he came. When the door clicked shut, she went back to her laptop and scrolled through it. Kill orders, assassinations, gold coins. More of the same. But what if she found a difference?

A backup plan. They were rivals who were forced together because of the choices of a select few of them. If she could find something that would drive a wedge between them, maybe she wouldn't even have to kill them herself. Maybe her backup plan was her main plan.

Her fingers moved on their own, and she pulled up the files she had on the higher-ups in the Underworld. She scrolled through Charlotte first. There was nothing there that would get the others to turn on her. In fact, Charlotte may have had the tamest portfolio of any mafia leader Madam had ever seen.

Next was Jericho. He served as a right hand for years, almost as long as he was a leader. Impressive. He had a stellar portfolio that made him stand out from any mafia, not just the ones in New York. So, she searched. There was nothing for several minutes, but then she found it. A familiar name was connected to Jericho. A name she wasn't expecting to find.

"Case 613," she whispered to herself, pulling it up. The details were etched into the report, and as soon as she saw what it was for, she printed it. She printed over a dozen copies on her printer alone, sending dozens more to the printers around her palace. A flash drive placed itself in the port of her laptop. Backups were made. Screenshots were taken, those shots saved and backed up as well.

That was it. That single case would be the downfall of their group. Her backup plan sounded more intriguing than her real plan. As soon as they arrived, she'd make sure she sought out Mr. Novak and his pitiful crew. They had brought suffering to her Council. They had brought suffering to those she cared most about. Now it was their turn.

Case 613 would destroy them all.

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