My men cleared a path between us. I held the urn in one hand and looked at Elena. Her wine glass stopped halfway to her mouth.
“Dante?” She lowered the glass. “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
The phones chimed again. A second email had arrived.
This one was titled: *Due Diligence.*
I opened the attachment. This time Sienna had sent an intelligence dossier.
The first files were audio clips of Elena bribing a psychiatrist for a false claustrophobia diagnosis. Next came blockchain receipts. Two days before the “k********g,” an offshore account in her name had sent untraceable cryptocurrency to one of Victor Petrov’s shell corporations.
And then there were the screenshots. Encrypted chat logs between her and the man she’d hired.
*Elena: Just rough her up. Make her bleed. Dante needs t
