Chapter 7 - The Mastermind’s Shadow
“Boss!”
Marcus came barreling around the corner from the security wing, his tactical vest smoking slightly from a close-range electrical arc, a submachine gun cradled in his arms. He took in the scene—the two downed operatives, Titan standing guard over the unconscious one, and Renata lying motionless in a pool of blood.
“Status!” I barked, keeping my pistol raised toward the basement stairs.
“Server room is fried,” Marcus panted, wiping sweat and soot from his forehead. “They uploaded a worm before we could isolate the grid. But I managed to trace the remote decryption handshake. The command signal didn't come from New York or Europe.”
I looked at him sharply. “Where?”
“Boston,” Marcus said, his eyes hard. “Specifically, from the private terminal of Damon Sterling.”
My blood ran cold.
Damon Sterling.
The billionaire shipping tycoon, primary board member of Duca Global, and one of my most trusted financial allies on the East Coast. For ten years, he had sat at my right hand during shareholder meetings, toasted my success at charity galas, and invested hundreds of millions into my infrastructure projects.
He was also the man who had bought the mortgage on my father’s estate three months before the massacre.
“The snake was in the boardroom the entire time,” I whispered, the final pieces of the puzzle clicking into place with horrifying clarity.
“What do our next moves look like, Boss?” Marcus asked, glancing down at the surviving operative stirring against the marble floor. “We lock down the estate, or we go hunting?”
“We do both,” I said, my voice dropping into a tone of absolute, chilling finality. “Tie this survivor up and throw him in the holding cell with the security feeds recording. Then prep the chopper on the roof.”
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“The chopper? Where are we going, Lorenzo?”
“Boston,” I said, turning away from Renata’s body and walking back down the dim corridor toward my study where Elena and little Mia were waiting. “It’s time to settle a fifteen-year-old debt.”
