Chapter 4 - The phantom enemy
Vincent stared at the photograph, his rugged face an unreadable mask. The boy was real. His son was real. He slipped the photo into the inner pocket of his coat, pressing it close to his chest. He turned back to the hallway, where Miller had the doctor pinned against the wall.
Tell me about the boy, Vincent ordered, his voice steady despite the hurricane of emotion inside him. What is his name?
The doctor trembled. Julian. She named him Julian. He is... he is exceptional, Mr. Caruso. Highly intelligent. But she isolated him. She told him his parents abandoned him because he wasn't strong enough. She trained him to believe that emotions are a weakness. She comes every weekend to drill him on business, strategy, and family history.
Vincent felt a sickening knot in his stomach. She was building a sociopath. She was trying to build a version of Vincent without a heart.
Who was driving the car when she left? Vincent asked.
It wasn't her usual driver, the doctor stammered. It was a man I've never seen before. Tall, fair-skinned, with a prominent scar on his jaw. He drove a silver sedan with diplomatic plates.
Vincent exchanged a sharp look with Miller. Diplomatic plates meant she had backing outside the country, or at least outside the usual syndicate channels. Celeste didn't have the power to secure those on her own. She was working with someone else. Someone powerful enough to help her overthrow the Caruso family.
Burn the records of his stay here, Vincent told Miller. Leave no trace that he was ever in this building. Then find out who that silver sedan belongs to.
As they drove back to the estate, the winter sky began to darken, casting long, cinematic blue shadows across the snow. Vincent’s phone vibrated. It was a message from his brother, Leo—Celeste’s husband. The message read: Vincent, we need to talk. Celeste is acting strange. Meet me at the downtown restaurant. Alone.
Vincent narrowed his eyes. Leo was a soft man, a man who preferred fine dining and luxury cars to the brutal reality of the family business. Vincent had always protected him, keeping him out of the syndicate's violent affairs. If Leo was reaching out, either he was finally waking up to his wife's treachery, or he was part of the trap.
Vincent arrived at the high-end Italian restaurant an hour later. The place was empty, cleared out by his men beforehand. The warm, golden lighting felt heavy. Leo was sitting at a corner booth, looking nervous, rubbing his hands together. He had the same fair skin as Vincent, but none of the rugged, masculine presence.
Vincent sat across from him, keeping his overcoat on. Talk.
Leo looked terrified. Vincent, I swear on our mother's grave, I didn't know what she was doing. I found documents in her safe this morning. Flight logs. Private charters to Switzerland. She’s moving massive amounts of capital out of the family’s holding accounts.
She's trying to buy the commission's favor to replace me, Vincent said flatly.
No, Leo shook his head aggressively. She's not trying to buy the commission. She's paying off the Moretti family.
Vincent stopped. The Morettis were a rival faction from the old days, exiled to Europe after Vincent’s father defeated them in a brutal street war twenty years ago. If Celeste was bringing them back, this wasn't just a coup. It was an invasion.
She promised the Morettis full control of the ports if they supply the muscle to take you down, Leo explained, his voice breaking. And... she has a boy, Vincent. I saw a picture. She claims he's a distant cousin, but he looks exactly like you.
He is my son, Vincent said, the words feeling foreign and heavy on his tongue.
Leo gasped, his face turning completely pale. Oh my god. She told me she was sponsoring an orphan. Vincent... I'm so sorry. I can't control her.
Vincent reached across the table and gripped his brother's shoulder. You are going to go home. You are going to pack a bag, and you are going to take the private jet to our safehouse in Florida. You stay out of this, Leo. If she finds out you warned me, she will hand you to the Morettis.
Leo nodded frantically, standing up to leave. But as he reached the door, he paused. Vincent. The documents I saw... there was a location circled for tonight. The old shipyard on the east river.
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Vincent watched his brother leave. The pieces were falling into place. Celeste was gathering the Moretti soldiers at the shipyard. She was preparing for a full-scale assault on the Caruso estate. But Vincent was not a man who waited to be attacked. He pulled out his phone.
Miller, Vincent said, his voice cold and commanding. Gather the captains. Arm every man we have. We're going to the shipyard.
