Chapter 7
Rafael walked out of the suite, looking at his lead bodyguard standing rigidly in the hallway.
"Do not leave this door," Rafael whispered. "If anyone attempts to enter, shoot them."
"Yes, Boss," the guard confirmed, his hand resting on his holstered weapon.
Rafael walked down the grand staircase, heading toward the heavily fortified war room in the lower levels of the estate. The cinematic brightness of the afternoon had faded into a deep, dangerous twilight. The revelation of his family's treason had opened a terrifying, bloody door, and Rafael intended to walk straight through it.
The war room was a windowless, reinforced bunker beneath the estate, illuminated by harsh overhead lights. A massive mahogany table sat in the center, covered with blueprints of the property and encrypted communication devices. Three senior capos stood around the table, their suit jackets discarded, waiting for their Boss.
"Status," Rafael demanded, his deep, raspy voice commanding absolute attention as he entered the room.
"The perimeter is entirely locked down, Boss," a capo named Vince reported, pointing to a live satellite feed on a nearby monitor. "We cut the exterior lighting on the main driveway. We have snipers positioned on the east and west rooftops. Thirty heavily armed men are waiting in the shadows."
Rafael leaned over the table, resting his masculine hands on the blueprints. The loose strands of wavy hair fell across his forehead, giving him a dangerously calm appearance.
"While we were securing Beatrice's private quarters," Vince continued, sliding a secure tablet across the desk. "We found a hidden safe behind a painting. It contained offshore routing numbers, encrypted communication logs, and physical cash. Boss... she wasn't acting alone."
Rafael tapped the tablet, scrolling through the decrypted logs. His mother had been communicating with the Romanov syndicate—their largest and most violent rival operating out of New York. The transcripts detailed a horrific transaction. Beatrice had agreed to hand over the logistical codes to the eastern shipping lanes to the Russians in exchange for their military backing to assassinate Rafael, removing the true power from the bloodline to place Julian on the throne.
"She sold my life to the Russians," Rafael whispered. The volume of his voice was so low it barely registered above the ambient hum of the room, yet it carried the terrifying weight of an impending massacre.
"The Romanovs are mobilizing, Rafael," Vince confirmed, his face pale. "They expect the codes by tonight. When she doesn't deliver, they will know something went wrong. They will strike the city."
Rafael slowly handed the tablet back. He didn't explode into anger. The veteran Mafia boss retreated into a state of chilling, absolute tactical clarity.
"They believe my house is divided," Rafael said softly, standing up from the desk. "They believe I am blind to the treason that was occurring under my own roof."
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"What are your orders, Boss?" Vince asked, drawing his weapon and checking the magazine.
"Lock down the city," Rafael commanded, his cold eyes reflecting the impending slaughter. "Arm every man on the payroll. We are taking the war to New York."
