Chapter 7 - The Mastermind Revealed
The high-resolution security monitors displayed a split-screen view of the entire estate.
On camera four, the tactical team that had breached the mansion could be seen milling around the main hallway, smashing furniture and cursing in frustration as they realized we had vanished into the sub-basement.
On camera seven, focused on the private underground garage, a sleek black Maybach rolled to a stop near the exit ramp. The driver’s side door opened, and a man stepped out into the harsh fluorescent light.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
It wasn't a rival syndicate boss. It wasn't a corrupted politician or an anonymous hitman.
It was Julian Vance.
My late wife Isabella’s younger brother. My own brother-in-law. The man I had personally appointed as the chief financial officer of Rossi Holdings, the man who had wept at Isabella’s funeral, the man I had trusted with my entire empire while I mourned.
“Julian,” I growled, my hands clenching into tight fists as I watched him adjust his gold-rimmed glasses on the screen, looking up at the security camera with a smug, condescending grin as if he knew I was watching.
“You see that, Mr. Rossi?” Hannah whispered, staring at the screen in horror. “That’s… that’s him?”
“That’s the scorpion in my house,” I muttered, my voice dropping into an icy, dead calm.
On the audio feed linked to the garage intercom, Julian’s voice began to echo through the panic room’s speakers.
“Are you listening down there, Lorenzo?” Julian’s voice purred, smooth and unhurried. “I know you’re in the bunker. You always were a coward who hid behind steel walls when things got messy.”
I stepped up to the console, hitting the transmission key. “You killed your own sister, Julian. Isabella was carrying your blood.”
“Isabella was a sentimental fool,” Julian replied coldly, his voice dripping with pure disdain. “She was going to convince you to hand over control of the shipping syndicates to a family trust, cutting me out of my rightful inheritance. She had to be removed. And her little bastard child? He was supposed to die naturally of starvation two weeks ago so I could inherit the entire Rossi estate without a single federal investigation. But you had to keep dragging in expensive doctors, and then tonight… some low-level maid ruined everything.”
“You’ll never leave this estate alive,” I said, every word dripping with lethal promise. “My enforcers are already twenty minutes out. When they breach these gates, they won't even wait for police; they’ll feed you to the dogs.”
Julian laughed—a high, shrill sound of absolute arrogance.
“Your enforcers aren't coming, Lorenzo. I intercepted their comms an hour ago and rerouted them to a false emergency across town. As for leaving… why would I leave? I’m going to flood this basement with nitrogen gas. In five minutes, you, the maid, and the brat will suffocate peacefully in the dark. And when the police finally arrive tomorrow morning, they’ll find the safe room locked from the inside—a tragic murder-suicide driven by a grieving father’s madness.”
May you like
The transmission clicked off.
On the monitor, I saw Julian turn away from the intercom, signal his men, and climb back into the Maybach as it began to reverse toward the escape tunnel.
