Chapter 7 - The Master Stroke
Drago didn't move. He stood in the center of my foyer, his eyes locked onto mine, measuring the depth of my resolve. He was a man who had survived in the criminal underworld by reading people, by finding their weakness and squeezing until they broke.
"You have a very beautiful family, Mr. Vance," Drago said softly, his voice carrying a subtle, venomous threat. "A lovely wife. A newborn son. It would be a tragedy if something... unfortunate... were to happen to them while you are busy protecting your ledger."
Before I could answer, Marcus stepped into the room, his phone held out toward Drago.
"Mr. Drago," Marcus said, his voice flat and professional. "There is someone on the line who wishes to speak with you."
Drago frowned, gesturing for one of his men to take the phone. The bodyguard held it to Drago's ear.
"This is Drago," he said.
As he listened, the smooth, arrogant composure on his face began to crumble. His eyes widened, and a subtle bead of sweat broke out on his forehead.
"I understand," Drago muttered, his voice suddenly stripped of its menace. "Yes. Immediately."
The bodyguard took the phone back. Drago looked at me, his gaze now filled with a deep, unsettling respect.
"It seems you have friends in very high places, Mr. Vance," Drago said, adjusting his coat. "The Minister of Finance in Cyprus has just frozen my primary clearing house. He suggested that if I do not leave your property immediately, the freeze will become permanent."
"I told you, Victor," I said, my voice dead and cold. "I’ve spent eighteen months building a fortress. I don't just protect my assets. I protect my family. Now, get out of my house."
Drago turned to his men. "We are leaving."
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"Wait!" my father screamed, running after him. "Victor, please! You can't leave me here! He’ll put me in jail! You promised to help me!"
Drago didn't even look back. He stepped through the front door, his men close behind, leaving my father alone on the frozen porch—the very porch where my wife and son had almost died.
