Chapter 19
Chapter 19: Shadows in the Marble
The news of Harper's pregnancy brought a deep, reverent joy to the DeLuca household, but for Enzo, it brought an entirely new tier of terror. A man with an empire can afford to lose a territory; a man with a family has everything to lose every single second of the day.
It was November, the first frost of winter whitening the grass of the estate. Enzo was sitting in his office, reviewing the security rotation for the third time that morning, when Marco entered. He didn't have his usual swagger. His face was grim, his eyes locked on a single, red folder in his hand.
"Enzo," Marco said, closing the door firmly behind him. "We’ve got a problem. A massive one. It’s coming from the federal penitentiary in Colorado."
Enzo stood up, his hand instinctively dropping to the heavy desk drawer where his piece was kept. "Preston? Did he die?"
"No," Marco said, his voice dropping into a tense, rapid whisper. "He didn't die. He escaped."
Enzo’s world went entirely silent, the blood roaring in his ears like a freight train. "Escaped? From Florence? That’s a supermax facility, Marco! Nobody escapes from there!"
"It wasn't a breakout from the inside," Marco said, handing over the folder. "He was being transported to a medical facility in Denver for an advanced heart evaluation. A highly coordinated mercenary team hit the convoy on I-70. High-grade explosives, military tactics. They killed six federal marshals, Enzo. They pulled Preston out of the van and vanished into the mountains in a non-registered chopper."
Enzo opened the folder, his eyes scanning the graphic photos of the ambush. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently. "Who paid for it? Julian is locked in our cellar, his accounts are empty. Who has that kind of capital?"
"We don't know," Marco said, looking out the window toward the garden where Harper was currently walking with Bruno. "But there’s more. The feds found a message spray-painted on the side of the destroyed transport van. It was written in the marshals' blood."
May you like
Enzo looked down at the final page of the report. It was a photograph of the rusted side of the transport vehicle. Written in dark, smeared red lines were four words:
THE SEED IS MINE.
