Chapter 14 - The Financial Guillotine
Back inside the villa's war room, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The blood-stained comb sat in the center of the table, a grim reminder of the threat hanging over them.
Danny was typing furiously on his laptop, his face illuminated by the blue light of the screen. "I found the trigger, Marco. Don Caprese just realized his accounts are emptying. I’ve frozen his primary asset holding company in Nicosia. Over forty million euros are currently locked in a digital vault they cannot access."
"How long can they hold out without that money?" Marco asked, pacing the room like a caged tiger.
"His mercenaries are already demanding payment," Danny replied. "My contacts on the dark web are reporting that the Caprese security detail in Palermo is starting to fracture. Two of his top lieutenants have already stopped responding to his calls. They know the ship is sinking."
"We need to press the advantage," Enzo said, leaning over the table. "Don Caprese is desperate. A desperate man will do something stupid. He will try to strike back at the villa, or he will try to flee the country."
"Let him try to flee," Marco said coldly. "We control the ports. We control the airport. He has nowhere to go."
"Marco," Lena spoke up from the corner of the room. She was sitting in a leather armchair, her cane resting against her leg. "We cannot just rely on violence. If you burn Palermo, the Italian government will step in. We need to expose his political allies first."
"She’s right," Danny agreed, pulling up a new database. "I’ve mapped out the financial transactions of the local magistrate, Judge Bernardo. He’s been receiving monthly payments from Caprese’s shell companies for three years. I have the bank routing numbers and the signed authorization forms Caprese used to approve the transfers."
Marco stopped pacing, looking at his brother-in-law with a newfound respect. "Can you send those files to the anti-mafia unit in Rome?"
"I already did," Danny smiled. "An anonymous tip with ironclad evidence. Judge Bernardo is currently being detained for questioning at his home in Palermo. By tomorrow morning, Caprese will have no legal shield left."
Just then, the heavy oak doors of the library opened, and a guard walked in, holding a secure satellite phone. "Don Marco. It is Don Caprese himself. He is calling on the open channel."
Marco took the phone, his face hardening into granite. He pressed the speaker button.
"Duca," Caprese’s voice growled, sounding strained and out of breath. "You think you are clever with your digital tricks and your American lawyers. You think you can starve me out of my own territory."
"I don't think, Caprese. I know," Marco replied, his voice deadly quiet. "You have no money. You have no political allies. Your mercenaries are leaving you. And you threatened my wife."
"I have one thing you don't have, Duca," Caprese sneered. "I have your father's old journal. The one containing the names of every Duca associate who helped betray the Caprese family thirty years ago. If I release those names, the blood feud in Sicily will never end. Your children, your grandchildren—they will all be hunted."
"My father's journal was burned in the fire at the Palermo estate twenty years ago," Marco said.
"Was it?" Caprese laughed, a dry, rattling sound. "Or did my father pull it from the ashes before the roof collapsed? Meet me tonight at the ancient ruins of Selinunte. Just you and your wife. If you do not come, the files go live on the internet at midnight."
The line went dead.
Marco stared at the phone, his mind racing.
"It's a trap, Marco," Enzo warned. "Selinunte is an open field of ancient Greek ruins. It's the perfect place for a sniper."
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"I know," Marco said, looking at Lena. "But if there is even a small chance he has that journal, I cannot ignore it. That book contains the names of families who protected me when I was a child. I won't let them be slaughtered because of my silence."
"Then we go," Lena said, standing up and gripping her cane. "But we don't go alone."
