Chapter 14
"Julian!" Belvin roared, dropping his gun to the gravel as he rushed forward and tore open the trunk, cutting the zip-ties with a pocket knife.
The older man slumped forward into Belvin’s arms, coughing violently, his skin pale and weather-beaten. He looked like a ghost dragged straight out of a nightmare, carrying the unmistakable scent of old smoke, salt water, and twenty years of hiding in the dark.
Naomi rushed forward to help, her veterinary training kicking in as she checked his pulse and airway. "He’s dehydrated, and his left wrist is fractured," she said quickly, her voice steady. "We need to get him to the estate medical wing immediately. Now!"
Ten minutes later, Julian Rivers lay resting on a sterile examination table in the estate's secure medical bay. An IV drip was threaded into his arm, and a lightweight splint braced his broken wrist.
Belvin stood vigil beside the bed, his hand gripping his older brother’s shoulder as if afraid Julian would dissolve into mist if he let go. Naomi stood near the monitors, carefully placing the fire-scarred leather ledger onto the steel counter.
Julian’s eyes fluttered open, blinking against the bright surgical lights. He looked from Belvin to Naomi, a weak, knowing smile touching his cracked lips.
"You've grown up, little brother," Julian’s voice rasped like dry sandpaper. He turned his gaze toward Naomi, his eyes widening in stunned recognition. "And you... sweet Jesus, you have Elena’s eyes. You're her daughter."
"I'm Naomi," she said softly, stepping closer to the bed. "And you're supposed to be dead. Everyone told me the Brooklyn fire took you."
"The fire was real," Julian whispered, wincing as Belvin adjusted his pillow. "The Commission wanted us all erased—Elena, me, your father. But I had the backup ledgers. I traded my life to the federal witness protection program in exchange for keeping your family off the ledger books. But they tracked me down last week."
"Who?" Belvin demanded, his voice dropping into a lethal register that promised absolute destruction. "Who found you after twenty years?"
"The real power behind the Commission," Julian said, his breathing shallow. "Not Castellano. Castellano was just a pawn making noise. The man pulling the strings from Zurich has been cleaning house for months. And he knows Naomi has the final decryption key."
The laboratory doors slammed open.
A frantic security guard rushed in, panting heavily, blood staining the shoulder of his uniform. "Boss! We've got multiple incoming units breaching the southern perimeter! They bypassed our minefields using military-grade frequency jammers! It's an entire tactical platoon!"
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Belvin’s eyes flared with cold, unbridled fury. He turned to look at Naomi, then down at the scarred ledger resting on the counter.
"They didn't come to negotiate," Belvin said, pulling his slide back with a sharp, lethal clack. "They came to finish what they started twenty years ago."
