The primary command center in Thessaloniki was chaos sculpted by fear. It was not a Volkov setup, too open, too many windows overlooking the Aegean Sea, but it was centralized, efficient, and located perfectly to watch the maritime routes Damon Salvatore would inevitably use. The room hummed with the frantic energy of two rival empires forced into the same choke point.
Domenico and Enzo Romano were present, their Italian elegance clashing with the severe, dark suits of my Capos. They occupied the opposite side of the long steel table, segregated by loyalty and decades of mutual contempt. Only Rocco was missing; he was already en route to Bari to assume command of the sea assets I had gifted him, a beast unleashed.
I stood over the central holographic map, which displayed the entire Medit
