Chapter 8 - SHADOWS OF THE PAST
Peace in the underworld, however, is rarely permanent.
It was a cold December evening, exactly one year since Maya had first stepped foot into the Bolaro estate. The mansion was decorated for the holidays, with a massive Christmas tree sparkling in the grand foyer and warm lights glowing from every window. Nico, now twenty months old and walking with chubby, determined steps, was tucked fast asleep in his crib upstairs.
Maya was in the estate's private study reviewing medical supply manifests when the heavy oak door burst open without a knock.
Vince, Lorenzo’s head of security, rushed inside, breathing heavily, his face pale and tense. "Boss—we have a serious problem."
Lorenzo looked up from his desk, his expression instantly hardening into stone. "Speak."
"It's about the offshore accounts Elena left behind," Vince reported quickly. "Our forensic accountants just tracked a series of encrypted wire transfers originating from a rival syndicate in New York—the Moretti family. Elena wasn't acting alone out of greed or family jealousy. She was being funded by the Morettis. They wanted Nico eliminated so the Bolaro empire would fracture from within without an heir."
Maya stood up from her desk, her heart skipping a beat. "So taking down Elena and Crane didn't end the threat?"
"No," Lorenzo said, standing up slowly, his eyes flashing with lethal, cold fury. The mafia boss who commanded absolute fear in Chicago had just reawakened. "The Morettis thought they could infiltrate my home, poison my son, and walk away clean. They made a fatal mistake."
"What are our orders, Boss?" Vince asked, his hand resting on his holster.
"Gather the inner circle," Lorenzo ordered in a low, dangerous tone. "We are going to pay our business partners in New York a very personal holiday visit."
Maya looked at Lorenzo, seeing the darkness closing in around him once again. She stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Lorenzo... don't let them drag you back into that war. You have a son now. You have a home."
May you like
Lorenzo looked down at her hand on his arm, the fierce anger in his eyes slowly softening as he met her steady, caring gaze.
"I'm not going to war, Maya," Lorenzo said softly, covering her hand with his own large, warm palm. "I'm going to finish it. Permanently. So that no one—ever again—will dare to look at my son."
