The scent of gunpowder and scorched marble lingered in the grand hall for three days.
Workmen swarmed the east wing like a disciplined army of ants. Heavy oak panels were replaced, bullet-riddled stone pillars were painstakingly restored, and thick, reinforced ballistic glass was fitted into every soaring archway of the estate. But while the physical damage to the mansion was rapidly repaired, the internal structure of the De Luca empire had changed forever.
Silvio was gone. His body, along with those of the eleven Bratva mercenaries who had breached the perimeter, had vanished into the deep waters off the coast before the sun had fully risen on the morning of the attack. His sudden, permanent absence sent a seismic shockwave through the syndicate's hierarchy.
There was a power vacuum a
