They dragged my maid into the middle of my mansion and called her a thief in front of my entire staff—but when a pendant slipped from beneath her collar, I realized the accusation was a setup. She wasn’t just a servant. She was the last living witness to the massacre that destroyed my family fifteen years ago.

The news broke at 8:00 AM the following morning.

I held a live, unannounced global press conference from the lobby of the Duca Enterprise Tower in downtown Chicago. Surrounded by dozens of reporters and live television crews, I stood at the podium with Victoria Vance by my side.

"Fifteen years ago, my family was brutally murdered in what was called a tragic home invasion," I said, my voice echoing through millions of television screens across the nation. "Today, I am handing over full digital evidence and sworn affidavits to the United States Department of Justice, exposing Senator Victor Moretti as the mastermind behind that massacre."

The room erupted into absolute chaos. Flashbulbs went off like strobe lights, reporters shouted over one another, and security struggled to keep the crowd back.

"Mr. Duca! Do you have a living witness?" a reporter screamed.

"The witness is under protective custody of the United States Marshal Service and my private security force," I replied into the microphones, looking directly into the center camera lens. "Victor Moretti, your time is up."

Within two hours, the city was in an uproar. Victor Moretti’s political campaign went into complete meltdown. Federal agents raided his campaign headquarters, while his lawyers scrambled to issue denials.

However, I knew Victor Moretti wouldn't surrender quietly to a courtroom. A cornered rat always attacks before it bleeds out.

"He’s calling in every favor he has left," Marco reported as we sat in an armored command van parked near the federal courthouse. "Our informants inside the Moretti camp say he’s hired an elite team of foreign mercenaries. They know Elena is scheduled to be transferred from my estate to the federal courthouse at 2:00 PM today."

"They're going to try to hit the transport convoy," I said, looking at the map of the city displayed on my monitor.

"It’s a suicide mission for them," Marco said. "The route will be crawling with federal marshals."

"Moretti doesn't care about collateral damage anymore," I replied. "He knows if Elena reaches that witness stand at 2:00 PM, he goes to prison for life. He will blow up three city blocks if it means killing her."

I leaned back, tapping my fingers on the desk. "Which is why Elena won't be in the convoy."

Marco looked at me, puzzled. "Boss?"

"Moretti expects us to move her in a heavy armored convoy with police escorts," I smiled, a cold, calculating grin. "So we will give him a heavy armored convoy. Fill the lead vehicle with decoy guards and state officers. Let Moretti’s mercenaries spring their trap on the highway."