Chapter 4 - The Traitor WithinBack in the command center of the main mansion, Victor Santos sat comfortably in front of the massive wall of security monitors, swirling a glass of amber whiskey. On screen three, the old garden shed was nothing more than a smoldering pile of black rubble.
He checked his watch. Twenty minutes past midnight. By now, the coroner would have had an easy job if there was anything left to recover.
The door to the command center slid open.
Victor didn't turn around immediately, assuming it was one of his hired mercenaries reporting in. "Is the perimeter secure? Did we find any stray footprints?"
"The perimeter is entirely secure, Victor," a cold, familiar voice echoed through the room.
Victor froze. The whiskey glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the steel floor.
He spun around in his chair.
Roman DeLuca stood in the doorway. His clothes were charred and stained with ash, his left arm wrapped in white gauze, but his eyes burned with an icy, absolute fury. Behind him stood Carmine and four heavily armed loyalists, their weapons leveled directly at Victor’s chest.
Color drained completely from Victor’s face. He staggered backward, gripping the edge of the control console.
"R-Roman..." Victor stammered, his bravado entirely evaporating. "You... you were in the shed. The fire—"
"The fire was very thorough," Roman interrupted, walking slowly across the room. "Unfortunately for you, my three-year-old daughter is remarkably stubborn about putting out fires."
Victor swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he tried to reach for his concealed holster.
"Don't," Carmine warned, cocking his weapon with a sharp, echoing click.
Victor raised his hands slowly, sweat beading on his forehead. "You don't understand, Roman. The syndicate out of Chicago... they offered me fifty million dollars and a clean slate in South America. You've grown soft, relying on family, keeping a maid and a child in the house. The old ways are dying!"
Roman stopped just two feet away from the traitor. He didn't yell. He didn't strike him. He simply looked at Victor with the profound disappointment of a man who realized his most trusted shield was made of paper.
"You traded loyalty for a paycheck," Roman said quietly. "And in exchange, you locked a child inside a burning building."
May you like
Before Victor could speak another word, Carmine stepped forward, the butt of his pistol striking Victor squarely across the temple. The traitor collapsed instantly onto the floor, unconscious.
"Tie him up," Roman ordered coldly. "We're going to have a long conversation about every single contact he made in Chicago."
Related Stories
