Chapter 3 - Tracing the Snake
The black armored SUV glided through the rain-slicked streets of the financial district, surrounded by two chase vehicles filled with armed guards.
Inside the rear cabin, Allesandro sat with Dominic and Marcus. Multiple screens were lit up around them, displaying diagnostic maps, bank records, and wiretaps.
"Explain the Valenti connection," Allesandro ordered, gazing out the tinted window at the grey city skyline.
"Don Valenti has been trying to break into our port logistics operations for three years," Dominic explained, pulling up a dossier on an elderly, ruthless rival boss. "He couldn't beat us in the streets, so he tried to find an angle from the inside. Six months ago, Victoria walked into your life at that gallery opening in Milan. We ran a background check back then, but her records were spotless—educated in Switzerland, daughter of a deceased wine merchant."
"It was a forged identity," Marcus interjected, pulling up a facial recognition cross-reference. "Her real name is Victoria Vance. She's the daughter of Arthur Vance—Valenti’s chief financial officer who died in federal prison five years ago. She didn't just join Valenti for money, Boss. She blames you for her father's arrest."
Allesandro’s jaw hardened. "Her father was arrested because he embezzled ten million dollars from my charitable trust and tried to sell my shipment routes to the federal authorities. He made his choice."
"She believes you set him up," Dominic added. "She’s been feeding Valenti live audio, video, and internal schedules straight out of your home for the past three months. Every deal you made, every meeting you planned—Valenti had front-row seats."
"And the doll?" Allesandro asked coldly.
"Lily was the perfect vector," Marcus said. "Guards sweep adults for electronics. No one sweeps a four-year-old’s teddy bear or doll. Lily loved carrying that doll around your private quarters. The camera caught your private phone calls, your desk documents, even the access codes to your safe."
Allesandro closed his eyes for three long seconds, processing the absolute scope of the breach. The woman he had shared his bed with, the woman he was preparing to marry, had been systematically picking apart his empire while pretending to love him.
"Where is she going for lunch?" Allesandro opened his eyes, the warmth gone completely from his irises.
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"The Grand Carlton Hotel," Dominic replied. "She reserved a private dining room under her charity's name. But our directional mic teams are already set up in the adjacent room."
"Good," Allesandro said softly. "Let us listen to what my sweet fiancée has to say to her real partners."
