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Chapter 18 - The Vienna Masquerade

I didn't lose him. I performed chest compressions for three agonizing minutes in the middle of a Roman rainstorm until his lungs violently sucked in air and his heart slammed back to life.

Twenty-four hours later. Vienna, Austria.

The Palais Liechtenstein was lit with thousands of crystal chandeliers, host to the annual winter masquerade ball of the European high society—a front for the Iron Council’s secret auction. Millionaires, cartel lords, and corrupt prime ministers walked the marble halls wearing gold and porcelain masks, drinking champagne while billions of dollars in illegal contracts were traded in the private suites upstairs.

Standing on the grand staircase overlooking the ballroom was Valentina Vance. Bespoke diamond jewelry covered her neck, and standing beside her, dressed in a white lace dress with a porcelain cat mask over her face, was six-year-old Mia.

Valentina leaned down, touching Mia’s cheek with a velvet glove. “Don’t cry, little girl. Tonight, you belong to the Iron Council. Your father’s legacy ends the moment the highest bidder takes your contract.”

Mia squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her tiny hands into fists. “My daddy is coming for you,” she whispered bravely, her small voice cutting through the classical violin music echoing in the hall. “He’s bigger than your guards, and he never loses.”

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Valentina laughed, raising her glass of champagne. “Your daddy is rot in an Italian ditch, child.”

Suddenly, the heavy oak double doors of the grand ballroom slammed open with a sound like thunder.

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