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The sound of the key turning in the lock was the loudest noise Elena had ever heard. / Chapter 4 / 6

Chapter 4 - Blood Alliances

The traitor was Silvio—Roman’s right-hand man, his consigliere, and the man who had helped Roman build the Valtieri empire from the blood-soaked asphalt up.

By the time Roman and Elena reached the roof, the helicopter was gone, disappearing into the cloudy night sky over the Atlantic. Silvio stood at the edge of the helipad, the wind whipping his tailored coat around his legs. In his hand, he held Elena’s corporate laptop.

"Why, Silvio?" Roman asked, his voice dangerously low. He didn't raise his gun. The betrayal ran too deep for a quick bullet. He wanted answers.

Silvio turned around, a sad, weary smile on his face. "Because you became soft, Roman. Look at you. You’re the head of the most powerful syndicate on the East Coast, and you’re letting yourself be distracted by a secretary. You didn't kill the Marcones when you had the chance last year because you wanted to 'legitimize' the business. For her? To create a world clean enough for her to stay in?"

Elena shrank back slightly, Roman stepping subtly in front of her, shielding her with his body.

"This business was built on blood, Roman," Silvio continued, his voice rising over the wind. "The Marcones offered a merger. Absolute control of the shipping ports. All they wanted was your sister as a bride to cement the alliance, and your head on a spike. I negotiated a better deal. Mia lives, the Marcones take the throne, and I run the city from the shadows. You had to go. But you just wouldn't die."

"Where are they taking Mia?" Roman demanded, taking a predatory step forward.

"To the old cathedral on the northern cliffs," Silvio smiled, lifting a small detonator from his pocket. "But you won't make it there."

"Roman, look out!" Elena screamed, noticing the small blinking red light beneath the helipad's control box.

Silvio pressed the button.

An explosion rocked the back half of the helipad. The concrete shattered, sending a shockwave that threw Roman and Elena to the ground. Silvio used the smoke and chaos to bolt toward the emergency stairwell, dropping the laptop.

Roman pushed a heavy piece of debris off his legs, coughing through the dust. He looked at Elena. She was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, but she was already crawling toward the laptop.

"I can... I can trace the helicopter's transponder if it’s linked to the Marcone network," she yelled over the roaring fire. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing the security locks Silvio had left behind. "I have it! They're not going to the cathedral, Roman! Silvio lied! The transponder is moving toward the international waters—they have a cargo yacht waiting at the marina!"

Roman stood up, his eyes burning with an unholy fire. He picked Elena up, cradling her tightly against him as he ran down the crumbling stairs.

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The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure terminal on my desk flashed a violent crimson. I hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, my eyes burning from staring at columns of ghost figures, duplicate invoices, and shell corporations linked to Dominic Rossi. But the red alert wasn’t from Rossi’s faction. It was an internal security flag originating from the estate’s main vault deep beneath the west wing.

The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure ter...

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scattering the light from the chandeliers. The muffled laughter died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence that crept outward from the grand staircase.

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scatter...

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking out the clinical, terrifying silence of the kitchen. Evelyn Crane stood stiffly in front of my mahogany desk, her hands folded over her apron with the rigid precision of someone who had spent decades micromanaging every square inch of my estate. Behind her, Norah hovered near the doorway, clutching her clipboard like a shield.

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking...

"Silvio underestimated two things," Roman said, his voice laced with absolute venom as they reached the garage. "He underestimated my sister's resilience. And he underestimated what I would do to keep you safe."

HOOK: As they tore toward the marina, Elena’s screen flashed with a new notification. The cargo yacht wasn't just escaping—it was rigged with naval explosives set to detonate the moment it cleared the harbor limit, leaving zero witnesses.

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