Chapter 2 - The Audit of the Hidden DynastyBy 2:00 AM, the blizzard had locked Chicago in an impenetrable white vault.
Inside the high-security executive suite on the top floor of the Mancini Global Tower on Michigan Avenue, fifty armed Vance Security operatives guarded every hallway, elevator shaft, and rooftop helipad.
Seventeen-year-old Elena—stabilized by my blood transfusion and private surgical intervention—lay resting peacefully in an adjacent medical suite under the care of top personal trauma surgeons.
Inside the primary executive study, I sat in a high-backed leather armchair, my dark hair disheveled, my broad hands wrapped around a glass of neat scotch. Beside me sat Sofia, wearing a soft cashmere sweater provided by my staff, her hand resting warmly in mine.
Across the broad black granite desk sat Bridget Colton, senior managing partner of Colton & Vance International, alongside two federal forensic accounting experts.
Standing by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, staring out at the frozen skyline, was Marcus Vance, CEO of Vance Global Security.
Bridget Colton opened three thick leather binders bound in red seals, sliding high-definition financial ledgers flat onto the granite desk toward me and Sofia.
"Luca, my dear," Bridget spoke softly, her sharp blue eyes holding profound professional fury. "The forensic audit of the Mancini Family Trust and the D'Amico Syndicate alliance is complete."
"Tell me, Bridget," I commanded flatly.
"For seventeen years," Bridget revealed, tapping the ledgers, "your uncle, Dominic Mancini, secretly partnered with Don Sal D'Amico to embezzle $180 million from your family's maritime logistics terminals."
Sofia gasped softly, her fingers tightening around mine.
"To ensure you never produced a biological heir who could legally claim controlling equity over the Mancini Trust," Bridget continued, sliding a second set of documents across the table, "Dominic bribed your personal physician in 2011 to issue a falsified medical report claiming complete biological infertility. He used that fake report to force you into signing a corporate proxy that leaves ninety percent of your empire to his branch of the family upon your death."
A low, guttural growl ripped from my chest, vibrating the heavy glass on the desk.
"And Elena's accident on I-290 tonight, Bridget?" I asked, my gray eyes narrowing into razor-sharp slits.
"It wasn't an accident, Luca," Marcus Vance turned away from the window, his tone dropping into an icy register. "Dominic discovered three days ago that Sofia and Elena were living in Evanston. He realized Elena was turning eighteen next month—the exact age when her original genetic trust registered under your father's will would automatically trigger a mandatory bloodline audit. Dominic hired D'Amico's crew to run her car off the highway to permanently erase the proof of your bloodline."
Sofia buried her face against my broad shoulder, weeping quiet, trembling tears.
May you like
I didn't yell. I didn't smash the glass. I slowly stood up from my chair, pulling Sofia up with me, wrapping my massive, tattooed arm securely around her waist.
"Marcus," I ordered smoothly, my baritone carrying a cold, weightless authority. "Prepare the legal indictments, freeze every offshore account tied to Dominic, and alert the capos. Tomorrow morning, we execute the purge."
Related Stories
