Chapter 13 - The Vacuum
Eleanor dropped a thick, unsealed manila envelope onto the kitchen island. Photographs spilled across the granite counter—images of shipping docks in Baltimore, container yards in New Jersey, and a familiar face standing in the shadows of a private airstrip.
"Victor Vance," I murmured, reading the dossier label.
"My estranged brother," Eleanor said, crossing her arms as she watched my reaction. "He didn't care about the Cole boys or your daughter's medical bills. But when he saw the entire East Coast syndicate hierarchy collapse overnight, he didn't see justice—he saw an open throne. He’s spent the last three months absorbing what was left of your old network, and he knows exactly whose name is hidden behind the Swiss holding accounts."
I picked up a photograph of Victor standing outside an abandoned dry dock—the exact pier where I used to watch cargo ships slip out toward the open Atlantic.
"He thinks I'm retired," I said softly.
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"He thinks you're a ghost story parents tell their kids to keep them out of trouble," Eleanor replied, her eyes sharp. "He’s planning a meeting tonight at the Obsidian Club to consolidate control over the remaining union bosses. And on his agenda? Finding out who dared to bankrupt the old families. Which means, sooner or later, his people are going to come looking for Lily to test your resolve."
The quiet peace I had spent nineteen years building fractured in a single heartbeat.
