Chapter 5 - The Stolen Maritime Trust
The four mercenaries dropped their carbines onto the flagstones, raising their gloved hands into the air as my men moved in with zip-ties.
The lead operative was forced to his knees, his mask ripped off to reveal the scarred face of Viktor Cruz—Bellini’s personal executioner.
I descended the spiral staircase with slow, rhythmic steps, stopping two feet in front of the kneeling hitman.
“Dominic sent his favorite dog to slaughter a sleeping four-year-old child in her bed, Viktor,” I said in a low, terrifying growl.
Viktor spat blood onto the polished stone, glaring at me with defiant venom.
“Bellini knows the girl is here, Vincent!” Viktor snarled, struggling against the heavy tactical zip-ties.
“The five families will never let you claim Julian’s voting shares through an illegitimate street child!”
“The probate court has already drafted the emergency conservatorship order appointing Bellini as the managing trustee!”
I reached into my inner pocket, pulling out the titanium flash drive Elena had given me in the library.
I held the glowing blue drive before Viktor’s eyes, watching his sneer dissolve into sheer, unadulterated panic.
“This isn't an illegitimate child, Viktor,” I whispered, each word landing like an iron sledgehammer.
“This drive contains the uncorrupted civil marriage certificate of Julian Thorne and Elena Vance, registered with the sovereign canton of Geneva.”
“It contains the authenticated DNA pedigree of Chloe Thorne, signed by the Chief Medical Examiner of Switzerland.”
“And most importantly, it contains the surveillance recordings of Dominic Bellini ordering the car bomb on Lake Shore Drive four years ago.”
Viktor choked on his breath, the blood draining from his face as he realized the magnitude of the trap they had walked into.
“You… you have the car bomb audio?” Viktor stammered, his body beginning to tremble in raw terror.
“Julian recorded every single phone call Bellini made from the marina office,” I said, resting the cold steel barrel of my sidearm against his cheekbone.
“Now you have exactly ten seconds to give me the private access codes to Bellini’s offshore servers in Nassau.”
“Or I will have Leo take you out to the middle of the lake in a weighted burlap sack.”
Viktor did not last five seconds; he broke down into frantic, breathless sobs, reciting the thirty-two-character cryptographic passkey.
I signaled Leo to haul the traitors down to the subterranean holding cells beneath the wine cellar.
“Notify Doctor Sterling to prepare the family armored transport,” I instructed my lieutenant, wiping a speck of dust from my lapel.
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“On Monday morning, we are going to the Union Club.”
“And I am going to introduce my niece to the wolves who thought they could eat her birthright.”
