Chapter 9 - Shadows on the HorizonPeace, in the underworld, was never a permanent state; it was merely the quiet before the storm reorganized its ranks.
It was a crisp Friday evening when the encrypted satellite phone on Julian’s desk let out a sharp, single beep.
Sienna paused her typing, her eyes snapping from her dual monitors to Julian, who was standing by the window inspecting a freshly cleaned custom Walther pistol. The sound of that specific ringtone—used only for direct transmissions from the Federal Commission of Syndicates in Chicago—made the air in the room instantly stiffen.
Julian picked up the receiver, his face masking into an impenetrable wall of granite.
"Rourke," he answered, his voice flat and cold.
Sienna watched his expression closely. For a full thirty seconds, Julian didn't speak. He simply listened as the voice on the other end delivered a message from across state lines. A muscle ticked sharply along his jawline.
"Understood," Julian said softly. "Give my regards to the board."
He hung up the phone and set it down with agonizing slowness.
"What is it?" Sienna asked, standing up from her desk, her instincts instantly flaring to life.
Julian turned around, sliding the pistol into his shoulder holster with practiced ease. "Dante Rossi didn't make it to South America."
Sienna’s breath hitched. "What do you mean?"
"His transport ship went down off the coast of Lake Huron," Julian said, his dark eyes locking onto hers with grave intensity. "No survivors. But before he went under, Dante managed to send a final package to the syndicate elders in Chicago. He gave them every piece of leverage he had on our logistics network."
"Which means..."
"Which means the Chicago Commission is sending their chief enforcer to Detroit," Julian finished quietly. "A man named Viktor Vance—Marcus's older, far more dangerous brother. And he’s coming to settle accounts for the East Side."
Bruiser rose from his spot under the desk, letting out a deep, ominous growl that vibrated through the floorboards. The dog knew. Animals could smell approaching violence long before men could see it coming.
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Sienna didn't panic. Her hands didn't shake. She walked over to her desk, closed her laptop with a sharp click, and picked up her tailored blazer from the back of her chair.
"Well," Sienna said, slipping her arms into the sleeves with absolute composure, "looks like it's time for another audit."
