Chapter 8
By six o'clock in the evening, a heavy winter fog rolled over Lake Michigan, blanketing the sprawling pine forests surrounding the Duca estate in a thick, eerie gray mist.
Inside the central war room on the mansion's third floor, high-definition security monitors illuminated the darkened room, displaying satellite maps, encrypted financial ledgers, and wiretap logs from four years ago.
Rocco stood beside Lorenzo, tapping an encrypted tablet as a single red file flashed on the primary screen.
"We found it, Boss," Rocco reported, his deep voice heavy with grim satisfaction. "It wasn't a rival syndicate. It was Captain Dominic Vitucci."
Dominic Vitucci was a fifty-five-year-old senior lieutenant who managed the Duca family's international shipping terminals on the East Coast. Four years ago, Vitucci had been Julian’s primary logistics officer. After Julian’s disappearance, Vitucci had quietly consolidated control over the lucrative port contracts, amassing millions in offshore accounts while posing as a loyal family servant.
"Vitucci," Lorenzo growled, the name tasting like venom on his tongue as his dark stubble flexed against his sharp jawline. "He sold my brother's route to a local hit squad so he could take over the East Coast shipping lanes."
"Vitucci is currently at his private estate in Lake Forest," Rocco added, checking his tactical feed. "He just received a message from one of our domestic staff members who noticed Clara moving her belongings to the master wing. Vitucci knows something is wrong."
Lorenzo walked over to a velvet-lined armory drawer, pulling out his custom black sidearm. He checked the magazine with fluid, lethal speed, sliding the weapon into his shoulder holster beneath his black luxury suit jacket.
"He knows his time is up," Lorenzo said, his piercing blue eyes burning with an absolute, terrifying resolve. "Mobilize the vanguard. Twenty men. Heavy tactical gear. We settle Julian's debt before midnight."
Before Lorenzo could step out of the war room, a soft patter of tiny shoes sounded in the corridor.
Sofie walked through the doorway, wearing a fresh pale-pink velvet cardigan over her pale-yellow floral dress, clutching her cream stuffed rabbit. Clara walked right behind her, looking radiant and elegant in a simple cream wool sweater, her brown hair resting softly over her shoulders.
Sofie ran over to Lorenzo, wrapping her tiny arms around his tailored leg. "Uncle Lorenzo! Are you going out?"
Lorenzo dropped down to one knee, wrapping his broad arms around his niece, kissing her forehead gently. "I have to take care of a small errand, little angel. But I will be back before you go to sleep."
Sofie reached into her cardigan pocket, pulling out her worn cream rabbit with its lavender ribbon, and held it out toward him. "Take Bunny with you! He protects good daddies!"
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Lorenzo let out a soft, warm laugh, accepting the stuffed rabbit into his broad, tattooed hand, slipping it carefully into his coat pocket.
He looked up at Clara, his deep voice filled with an unbreakable promise. "Keep her in the master suite. Rocco’s men will guard the floor. I will finish this tonight."
