Chapter 5 - The Cicero Leakage
The financial execution was clean, silent, and completely devastating.
At 9:02 a.m., the digital ledger of the Cicero Commercial Bank showed a flat zero balance across eleven different accounts registered to the Midwest Vending & Amusement Group. At 9:04 a.m., an automated alert from the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network (FinCEN) arrived on the personal computer of Anthony Valenti’s chief lieutenant, indicating that their operational lines had been restricted under a federal administrative hold.
Inside the Whitefish Bay study, Elena hit the escape key, leaning back in the massive leather chair as the confirmation screen turned green. "The freeze is locked," she said, her voice tired but steady. "The Valenti group has seventy-two hours before their legal team can even file an appeal to see the source warrant. They’re blind, Dominic."
Dominic moved his chair back to the desk, his hand coming to rest on the armrest next to hers. He didn't touch her hand—the invisible boundary was still there—but the physical proximity was enough to make the air between them feel thick, warm, and dangerous.
"You're still the best accountant in this state, Elena," he said softly.
"I don't want your compliments, Dominic," she said, turning her head to look at him, her dark eyes clear and unblinking. "I did this because if the Valenti family stays on that highway, my sons are in danger. I didn't do it to help Caruso Maritime. I didn't do it to help you rebuild your throne."
"The throne is empty, Elena," Dominic said, his silver-gray eyes turning toward the window where the fog was finally beginning to break, revealing the cold blue water of the lake below. "I've spent the last six months transferring the final shipping assets to a blind trust in London. The trucks, the warehouses, the terminals—they’re all being sold to a logistics conglomerate out of Munich. By January, Caruso Maritime won't exist. There will only be a collection of legal documents and a bank account that no one in this city can touch."
Elena’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, her analytical mind frantically trying to find the catch, the lie, the hidden clause in his calculation. "You're selling everything? Your father’s legacy?"
"My father died because he thought an empire was worth more than his wife’s life," Dominic said, his voice dropping into a rough, emotional baritone that shook her to her core. "He stayed in that glass office until the heart attack took him at the desk, because he was afraid that if he stepped away, someone would see that he was just an old man who couldn't sleep without a guard at the door. I looked at my legs three years ago and I realized I was turning into him. I was going to stay in this house, surrounded by steel and cameras, waiting for someone to slide a piece of lead through the glass."
He turned his chair closer, his leather glove gently catching the edge of her sleeve. "Then I saw Leo and Lucas on that riverfront yesterday. I saw them wearing my eyes, looking at this chair as if it were a toy instead of a cage. I don't want them to know the name Caruso because of a newspaper investigation, Elena. I want them to know it because their father was the man who had the sense to walk away when he still had something to live for."
Before Elena could answer, a sudden, sharp explosion rattled the glass walls of the study.
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The monitors flickered, two of them turning into flat black screens as the red emergency lights of the estate began to pulse rhythmically against the stone walls. The intercom screamed with static before Marcus’s voice broke through, raw, frantic, and laced with the sound of automatic gunfire.
"Boss! We have a breach at the eastern wall! They didn't use the road—they came off the lake in two black zodiac boats! They're on the terrace, Dominic! They're inside the house!"
