Chapter 6 - The Interrogation
In the underground soundproof vault beneath the mansion, the captured assassin was strapped to a metal chair. Water dripped rhythmically from the damp stone ceiling, echoing like a metronome of doom.
Lorenzo stood before him, rolling up his sleeves. Alina stood near the doorway, clutching a wool blanket around her shoulders, watching with wide, terrified eyes.
"Who sent you?" Lorenzo’s voice was dangerously low.
The intruder spat blood onto the concrete. "Go to hell, Morty. You're losing your grip. Bringing a whore and a brat into the fortress... the council won't stand for it."
Lorenzo didn't blink. He didn't raise his voice. He simply drew a hunting knife from his belt, the steel glinting viciously under the harsh overhead bulb.
"Victor Santoro," Alina blurted out suddenly, stepping forward from the shadows.
Lorenzo paused, glancing back at her. "Explain."
"Santoro controls the southern docks," Alina said, her voice steadying as her analytical mind kicked in. "He hated the Castellano merger four years ago. If he finds out you have an heir with a Castellano auditor, he knows his position on the commission is finished. He’s trying to eliminate the bloodline before you can legitimize it."
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Lorenzo stared at her for a long moment, a dark, appreciative smile slowly curving his lips. "You still have that audit brain. I missed that."
He turned back to the terrified assassin. "She’s right. Now, tell Victor Santoro that his time is up."
