KANE
Iwas still actively processing what Connor had just told me when Mila smoothly guided Ella out of the main salon toward the east wing gallery.
Consortium Prime.
The name sat completely wrong in my mouth. Absurd. Comic book ridiculous.
At first, I genuinely thought he was making some kind of elaborate joke. Like Optimus Prime or some equally stupid comic book villain reference meant to lighten an otherwise dark conversation.
But Connor's expression hadn't shifted even slightly from dead serious.
No humor. No irony. Just cold fact.
"You're not actually kidding about this," I said slowly, searching his face for any sign of a setup.
"No. Not even a little bit."
We stood alone in the main salon now, just the two of us. The peaceful courtyard was visible through the tall windowsbehind him—ivy climbing ancient stone, fountain running softly, everything quiet and safe and protected.
The complete opposite of what Connor was currently describing.
"Consortium Prime," he began, choosing each word with deliberate care like he was briefing a military operation, "is the ultimate level conglomerate of everything underworld across multiple continents. European mafia families. Asian triads. Russian bratva. Smuggling operations spanning three continents. International weapons trafficking. Human trafficking networks. Drugs. Money laundering on scales you can't imagine. All of it organized under one umbrella."
I frowned, still not fully understanding the significance. "Why's that fundamentally different than any other major criminal organization? They all do the same shit."
"Because it's not one single organization," Connor said, emphasizing each word carefully. "It's a network of previously competing and often violent rival organizations that have somehow managed to agree to work together. Cooperate instead of kill each other. Play relatively nice with their traditional enemies. Mostly. Think of it like the United Nations, except exclusively for the world's absolute worst people."
I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of the concept. "That arrangement won't last long. It never does, historically. Some ambitious asshole always tries to grab too much power too fast and the whole fragile castle comes tumbling down."
"You might be absolutely right about that eventual outcome," Connor admitted without any argument. "But right now, in this specific moment, every single whisper we're hearing from every reliable source says Consortium Prime is the new dominant force on the block. Everywhere we look internationally."
"Even in the States?" I asked, genuinely surprised by the scope.
"I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. America's always been harder to penetrate with that level of coordination. But it's definitely coming. Expanding methodically. Only a matter of time before they establish real presence."
I studied his face carefully, reading the underlying tension. "Why hadn't you figured this connection out before now? Before I accidentally kicked the hornet's nest?"
Connor's jaw tightened. "The guy you killed in that abandoned building? He wasn't just randomly connected to organized crime. He was tied in heavily with the Consortium's actual power structure. High-ranking family member with serious connections. Someone genuinely important's son. When you permanently put him down, pieces started moving across the board that we could finally track and analyze."
"What kind of pieces, specifically?"
"They've put the word out through established channels. Multiple sources confirming. They want to talk to you. But we're absolutely not going to let that happen under any circumstances. You're safe here. Completely protected."
I appreciated the sentiment and the resources behind it. Really, I genuinely did.
But right now, in this moment, hiding behind walls didn't feel like the strategically correct move.
"We should fight," I said flatly, meaning every word. "Go on immediate offense. Kill the fuckers systematically and be done with this before they get properly organized against us."
Connor shook his head firmly and immediately. "You're not getting it yet, Kane. This isn't anything like St. Paul's was. Small. Contained. Killable. This is like fighting a mythological hydra. You cut off one head, two more grow back in its place. You kill one lieutenant, you automatically piss off the entire massive organizational structure. Every family. Every operation. Everyone."
"Okay," I said slowly, forcing myself to think tactically instead of emotionally. "Then what the actual hell do we do? Just wait?"
"I'm honestly not sure yet," Connor admitted, clear frustration bleeding through his usual control. "But maybe—just maybe—we can find some way to strategically separate what's left of St. Paul's from the larger Consortium structure. Make them look incompetent to their backers. Set them up to take a major fall. Create permanent distance and distrust. I don't know exactly how yet, but it's a direction."
I was about to tell him that strategic approach didn't actually sound terrible when Ella and Mila suddenly rushed back into the room with obvious urgency.
Ella's face was completely drained of color. Pale as death. Eyes wide with pure panic in a way I'd never seen from her before.
