"Problem?" he asked.
"My family was just taken." I grabbed my jacket, already moving toward the door. "The meeting is over."
"Matteo?" Vincent stood, his expression hardening. "This is exactly what I warned you about. He's escalating."
"Then I'll eliminate the problem. Permanently."
"Cassian, wait." Vincent's voice stopped me at the door. "You can't go in hot. That's what he wants—you emotional, making mistakes. Let me help."
"I don't have time for politics, Vincent."
"This isn't politics. It's strategy." He pulled out his phone. "I have resources you don't. People who owe me favors. Give me two hours, and I'll have the location."
Every instinct screamed at me to refuse, to handle this myself. But Vincent was right about one thing—charging in blind would get Isla and Leo killed.
"One hour," I said. "After that, I move with or without your help."
The drive back to the Morrison building took twelve minutes. It felt like twelve hours.
I called Marco from the car. "Status."
"Traffic cams show the van heading west through the tunnel. We lost it near the Jersey waterfront—too many blind spots in that area." His voice was grim. "But boss, we found something. One of the attackers was killed during the extraction. Marcus got him before he went down."
"And?"
"His phone had a partial text thread. Messages to a number we've traced back to one of Matteo's known associates." Keys clicked in the background. "The last message sent was 'Package secured. Two for the price of one.'"
My hands tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. "This wasn't opportunistic—they knew we'd be at that park today. Someone told them."
"A leak?" Marco's voice sharpened.
"Has to be. Only four people knew about today's outing—you, me, Marcus, and the driver." I pulled into the Morrison building's underground garage. "Find out who else knew and who talked. And Marco? When you do, I want them alive long enough to tell me why they betrayed me."
"Understood."
I parked and killed the engine, but didn't get out immediately. My mind was racing through possibilities. Marcus had nearly died protecting them—unlikely to be him. Marco had been with me for five years. The driver was new, hired just last month.
The driver.
"Marco. The driver today. When did we hire him?"
"Three weeks ago. Came with excellent references from—" He stopped. "Fuck. From the Castellano family."
The same family Matteo had been courting. The same family that controlled the northern docks.
"Bring him in," I said quietly. "Don't kill him. I want to know everything—who recruited him, what he told them, what else Matteo knows."
"On it."
And Cassian?" Marco's voice dropped. "The medical examiner is asking questions about Carlo. The wounds, the weapons used—this doesn't look like a random attack."
"Stall them. Tell them whatever you need to. I don't care about the police right now."
I ended the call and immediately dialed another number. Dmitri answered on the first ring.
"Where the fuck were your men?" My voice was ice.
"Boss, they were nearby but were too late—"
