Chapter 10
Six months later, the Whitmore estate had fully healed from the scars of the winter war. Spring had arrived in full force, transforming the sprawling grounds into a vibrant paradise of blooming roses and lush green lawns.
Megan stood on the sweeping stone balcony of the master suite, breathing in the fresh morning air. She wore a beautifully tailored emerald green sundress that perfectly complimented her fair, rosy skin. On her left hand, the flawless diamond ring sparkled brightly in the sunlight. She had adjusted perfectly to her new life as the lady of the Whitmore syndicate, transforming the cold, intimidating mansion into a warm, loving home.
Down in the gardens below, Elias was playing with Rosie and Oliver. The ruthless mafia boss was currently sitting on a picnic blanket, letting Rosie aggressively comb his swept-back hair with a pink plastic brush, while six-month-old Oliver babbled happily in his lap. Elias’s deep laughter echoed up to the balcony, a sound Megan cherished more than anything in the world.
She turned away from the idyllic scene as the heavy wooden doors of the master suite opened.
Silas, Elias's towering underboss, walked into the room. He was a hardened man who rarely showed emotion, but today, his scarred face was unusually pale, and his jaw was set with extreme tension. He didn't look toward the balcony.
"Silas?" Megan asked, stepping back into the room, her protective instincts instantly flaring. "Is something wrong? Elias is in the garden."
"I know, Mrs. Whitmore," Silas said, stopping in the center of the room. He held a small, black encrypted tablet in his hands. "But this just came through the secure server. It was routed through a dozen offshore proxies. It bypassed all our firewalls."
"What is it?" Megan asked, a cold knot of dread forming in her stomach. The absolute peace of the last six months suddenly felt incredibly fragile.
"It's a message, ma'am. And a photograph," Silas said grimly.
Megan walked over and looked at the screen. The photograph was a surveillance image of their estate, taken from the heavily wooded hills just a mile away. In the crosshairs of a sniper scope, Elias was perfectly framed sitting on the picnic blanket, holding Oliver.
Megan gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Who sent this? The Voss family is dead!"
"The Voss family in this city is dead," Silas corrected her, his voice trembling slightly. "But Celine's uncle runs the largest cartel in Europe. We thought he had cut ties with his brother years ago."
Megan’s mind raced. They had killed the father, imprisoned the daughter, and stolen the empire. Blood demanded blood.
"What is the message, Silas?" Megan demanded, her clear eyes hardening with the fierce, defensive instincts of a mafia queen.
Silas swallowed hard before reading the text below the terrifying photograph.
May you like
"It says... 'You took my brother's legacy. Now, I will take your future. The hunt begins today.'"
Down in the garden, Elias’s laughter suddenly stopped. He looked up at the balcony, his sharp, predatory instincts sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The war with Victor Voss had just been a local skirmish. A much darker, international ghost had just arrived at their door.
