Henri Delarney sat at the head of the long conference table, his sharp eyes scanning the faces of the men seated before him. The light from the crystal chandelier above cast shadows across the dark wood, creating an ambiance of understated menace. These meetings weren’t for show; they were the heart of his operations, where the true backbone of his empire was laid bare.
The day had been a blur of legitimate deals—mergers, acquisitions, boardroom handshakes—but here, in this secluded room hidden in the basement of the Delarney Mansion, the real business began.
Henri steepled his fingers as one of his lieutenants finished a presentation on a new arms route through Eastern Europe. “We’ve smoothed out the issues with the customs officials in Belgrade,” the man said, his voice steady but tens
