The execution of the traitor Carlo sent a massive, violent shockwave through the entire Eastern Seaboard underworld.

The Moretti family and the other rival syndicates realized instantly that Vincent Rossy was no longer a dying, starving ghost.

To solidify his return to absolute power, Vincent called for a mandatory sit-down with the heads of the five local families.

He hosted the summit at his estate, intending to show them that his house was secure and his strength was fully restored.

Instead of hiring a massive catering company, Vincent ordered Norah to cook the main feast for the terrifying gathering.

"I want them to eat the food that brought me back to life," Vincent told her the morning of the dinner.

Norah spent the entire day in the kitchen, surrounded by heavily armed guards, cooking with a frantic, focused energy.

She did not prepare complicated, pretentious gourmet dishes with foams and edible gold leaf.

She made a massive, rustic Italian feast, drawing on traditional recipes designed to project abundance, strength, and raw power.

She roasted whole legs of lamb with rosemary and garlic, prepared massive trays of handmade pasta with rich, dark ragu, and baked crusty bread.

The smell in the kitchen was absolutely intoxicating, a heavy, savory aroma that made the security guards’ mouths water.

When eight o'clock arrived, Enzo escorted Norah to the edge of the formal dining room so she could oversee the service.

The massive mahogany table was surrounded by twelve terrifying, dangerous men, all wearing expensive suits and calculating expressions.

Vincent sat at the absolute head of the table, looking incredibly powerful and completely at ease in the lion's den.

The servers brought out the massive platters of food, placing the steaming, rustic dishes in the center of the table.

Don Moretti, the man who had ordered Vincent’s poisoning, looked at the simple, hearty food with clear confusion.

"No caviar, Vincent?" Moretti sneered slightly, trying to test the waters.

"I thought your tastes were a bit more refined than peasant food."

Vincent picked up a piece of the crusty bread, tearing it with his strong hands and dipping it into the rich ragu.

"My tastes have changed, Don Moretti," Vincent said loudly, his voice carrying the weight of an absolute threat.

"I realized that rich, expensive things are often easily corrupted and poisoned from the inside out."

He took a bite of the food, chewing slowly, proving to every man in the room that he was eating without fear.

"This food is honest, it is strong, and it is exactly what I need to remind me of where I came from," Vincent declared.

He looked down the length of the table, his dark eyes locking onto Moretti with a lethal, unforgiving intensity.

"And it reminds me of what I am willing to do to anyone who tries to take it away from me."

The dining room fell completely silent, the absolute dominance of Vincent’s statement hanging heavily in the warm air.

The rival bosses slowly began to eat, realizing that the king of the East Coast was not only back, but more dangerous than ever.

Norah watched from the shadows near the kitchen door, feeling a massive swell of pride expanding in her chest.

Vincent caught her eye from across the massive room, giving her a subtle, incredibly intimate nod of profound gratitude.

She had fed the wolves, and her food had helped her boss assert his absolute dominance over the entire pack.