Chapter 11 - The Ashes of PalermoThe smoke from the perimeter breach hangs heavy in the crisp morning air, casting long, ghostly shadows across the marble courtyards of the Venturi estate. Federal agents swarm the grounds, cuffing the surviving mercenaries and bagging weapons stamped with the insignia of the European Syndicate. Inside the study, Viktor Vance’s lifeless body has already been zipped into a body bag, a stark reminder of what happens to those who dare test the house of Venturi.
Luciano stands on the grand stone balcony, a steaming cup of black coffee in his hand. His eyes scan the horizon where the sun is breaking through the winter clouds. Marco steps out quietly, holding a secure encrypted tablet.
“Boss, the federal raid on Dante’s private estate in Palermo yielded more than we expected,” Marco reports, his voice low. “They found the original offshore ledgers dating back thirty years. Dante wasn’t just a rogue godfather; he was the primary architect behind the fire that supposedly killed your father.”
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Luciano takes a slow sip, his jaw tightening. “My father knew Dante was selling out our shipping lanes to rival syndicates. He faked his death to draw them out, leaving me to inherit a poisoned crown.” Luciano turns, his dark gaze fixed on Marco. “Is Dante in custody yet?”
“Interpol picked him up trying to board a private freighter off the coast of Sicily ten minutes ago,” Marco replies with a grim smile. “He’s coming home, Luciano. To face family justice.”
