Chapter 2: The Blood in the Ledger
Enzo didn’t go to Preston’s house with a gun. He went with a ledger.
By 4:00 AM, Enzo was standing in the shadows of Preston Whitcomb’s private study in Lake Forest. When the older man walked in, holding a glass of scotch to celebrate his narrow escape from the mafia's wrath, he found Enzo sitting in his leather chair.
"Enzo!" Preston gasped, dropping his glass. "What... what are you doing here? The deal is done. You have the girl, you have the holdings—"
"You told me Nathan died because he tried to collect a debt," Enzo interrupted, his voice dripping like venom. He threw a thick file onto the desk. "But my tech guys finally cracked your encrypted offshore drives tonight."
Preston’s face drained of what little color it had.
"Nathan didn't die over a money debt, Preston," Enzo said, stepping into the moonlight. "Nathan found out what you were doing to your daughter. He found her medical records. He was coming to take her away from you. You didn't kill my brother to protect your hedge fund. You killed him to keep your twisted secrets buried."
Preston backed away, his hands shaking. "She’s my property! I made her! I can do whatever I want with her! You think the law will care? You're a mafia boss, Enzo. Your hands are covered in blood!"
"Yes, they are," Enzo whispered, a vicious, predatory smile spreading across his face. "But my family protects women and children. We don't break them."
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Before Preston could scream, two of Enzo’s largest guards stepped out from the curtains, heavy zip-ties in their hands.
"Don't kill him," Enzo ordered coldly. "Not yet. Bring him to the basement of the estate. I want my wife to wake up knowing the monster is in a cage."
