Two weeks after Rosa's birth, I stood in front of the Commission for the first time as a mother.
Rosa was strapped to my chest in a baby carrier, sleeping peacefully despite the room full of dangerous men. Dante stood beside me, still favoring his injured leg but refusing to use the crutch anymore.
"The Syndicate is broken," I announced to the assembled family heads. "Philadelphia and Boston have formally withdrawn. Chicago's remaining neutral. Sal Castellano stands alone."
"So we've won," Don DiMarco said.
"We've won the war. But we haven't won the peace." I pulled up a map on the screen behind me one-handed, since Rosa was occupying my other arm. "Sal still controls significant territory. He has loyalists throughout the city. If we don't handle this properly, we're looking at years of guerrilla warfare. Small attacks, constant instability, never truly secure."
"What are you proposing?" Wei Chen asked.
"A meeting. Neutral ground. Us and Sal. We offer terms."
