He is sitting at the metal table, surrounded by laptops and tablets. His face is gray, illuminated by the blue light of the screens. He looks like he hasn't slept in forty-eight hours. He probably hasn't.
"Coffee," I say, walking to the pot. It’s stale and burnt, but caffeine is fuel, not pleasure right now.
"Morning, Boss," Luca says. His voice is gravel. He doesn't look up from the screen.
"Status report."
"The cleanup crew finished at 0400," Luca says, tapping a key. "The bodies are gone. The blood is scrubbed. The broken glass is swept. But the house..." He hesitates. "The east wingis structural. The truck ramming the gate compromised the perimeter wall. We’re exposed, Silas."
"We can rebuild a wall," I say, leaning against the counter, blowing on the hot liquid. "What about the threat?"
Luca finally looks up. His eyes are bloodshot. There is a fear in them I haven't seen since we were kids running the streets of Hell’s Kitchen.
"It’s not just the wall, Silas."
He turns the laptop screen toward me.
It’s a banking interface. My main offshore accounts in the Caymans.
ACCESS DENIED.ACCOUNT FROZEN: FEDERAL SEIZURE ORDER.
I stare at the red letters.
"Try the Swiss accounts," I say, my voice dangerously calm.
"Frozen," Luca says. "Cyprus. Hong Kong. Even the crypto wallets are flagged. Someone didn't just hack us, Silas. Someone handed a dossier to the DOJ, the IRS, and Interpol simultaneously. They triggered a global freeze."
I grip the edge of the table. The metal bites into my skin.
"Nikolai," I snarl.
"It’s a scorched earth tactic," Luca says, running a hand through his hair. "He knows he can't beat you in a gunfight, so he’s cutting off the supply lines. We can't pay the guards. We can't fuel the jets. We can't even buy bullets right now without using cash on hand."
"How much cash do we have?"
"In the safe? Maybe two hundred grand. Enough for a week of operations if we go lean. But the empire... Vane Enterprises... it’s paralyzed."
I straighten up, throwing the rest of the coffee into the sink. The liquid splashes, dark and angry.
I am the CEO of a billion-dollar conglomerate. I own ports, shipping lines, real estate. And in the blink of an eye, I am functionally bankrupt.
Nikolai didn't just want to take Ivy. He wanted to take my crown.
"He thinks this cripples me," I say softly. "He thinks because I wear suits and drink eighteen-year-old scotch that I’ve forgotten how to starve."
I look at Luca.
"He forgot where we came from."
"We came from the gutter, Silas," Luca reminds me. "But we worked hard not to go back."
"We’re not going back," I say. "We’re going underground."
I walk to the wall of weapons. I pull down a duffel bag and start filling it. Ammo. Grenades. First aid kits. Burner phones.
"Pack everything essential," I command. "Wipe the servers. Burn the hard drives. We are leaving the Estate."
"Where are we going?" Luca asks, standing up. "Without the accounts, we can't charter a flight. The safe houses are all listed in the seized assets."
