For three days, the underworld traded fragments of the same story: a private pier, a Corsican collection, two debtors who never came back. No bodies were found. Julian and Chloe simply stopped answering their phones, and people learned to lower their voices around their names.
While the city gossiped, I worked.
In my penthouse office, I conducted the final audit beneath the blank eyes of my mother's statues. One signature seized Julian's holding companies. Another took the properties hidden under shell names. I checked every directive against the supporting ledger before signing it. Then I removed his access from the digital records behind the network and recovered everything he had diverted from the Rostova estate.
Victor dealt with the Falcone council. Elder Giacomo and the men who ha
