The Vettori power was not a cudgel; it was a scalpel. And for the first time in five years, I held it in my hand again. It felt familiar. It felt right.
We didn’t waste time with grief or rage. That was a luxury for later. For now, there was only the clock and the mission. In a blacked-out communications van parked a block away from the heliport, Marcello had assembled his war council. Not with maps and soldiers, but with encrypted laptops and financial analysts who looked more like assassins than accountants.
“Caspian’s world is built on three pillars,” I began, my voice devoid of emotion as I pointed to a screen displaying the Thorne Industries corporate structure. “Reputation, capital, and access. We’re going to shatter all three. He thinks he’s built her a fortress. We’re going to sh
