Chapter 6 - the midnight visitor
By five in the morning, the heavy coastal fog began to yield to the first pale light of dawn.
Inside the mansion's private upper library, Dominic sat behind a massive oak desk, reviewing financial ledgers and shipping manifests. A single desk lamp illuminated his rugged features, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw and the light stubble framing his face.
The heavy mahogany doors opened quietly.
Vincent, his chief enforcer, stepped inside. His dark suit jacket was slightly damp from the morning mist, but his expression was triumphant.
"Vance is secured in the sub-level cell, Boss," Vincent reported in a low, respectful voice. "And Team Two just confirmed Dr. Harris's daughter is safe inside our Boston compound. She wasn't harmed."
"Good," Dominic said smoothly, closing the heavy ledger. "What did Vance carry on him?"
Vincent walked over to the desk, laying down a black leather briefcase, a satellite phone, and a small, silver micro-drive.
"The satellite phone was receiving encrypted calls every twenty minutes from a private number in Chicago," Vincent explained. "We ran the routing codes. The calls aren't coming from the Chicago Syndicate leadership, Dominic."
Dominic raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes sharpening. "Explain."
"The calls are originating from inside our own syndicate's regional office in Philadelphia," Vincent revealed grimly. "Someone in your senior council has been feeding Vance security codes, shift schedules, and dietary protocols for this mansion for the past three months."
Dominic’s jaw tightened into rigid steel. The realization that a traitor sat at his own council table hit him with cold, lethal precision.
"Who holds the Philadelphia shipping accounts?" Dominic asked softly.
"Your cousin... Marcus Moretti," Vincent answered.
Dominic leaned back against his high leather chair, looking out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the rising sun. Marcus was his father's nephew, a man who had sat at the family table for twenty years, managing eastern distribution routes with quiet efficiency.
"Call an emergency council meeting for twelve o'clock today," Dominic ordered, his deep voice carrying a terrifying promise of retribution. "Inform all regional directors that attendance is mandatory."
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"And Clare and little Lily?" Vincent asked. "Are they staying in the penthouse?"
"No," Dominic said, standing up from his chair. "Clare and Lily are moving into the master suite quarters permanently. They are no longer staff in this house, Vincent. They are family."
