Chapter 22
Vincent did not flinch at the mention of the Sicilian syndicate. He turned his cold, intimidating eyes away from his wife and daughter, instantly slipping back into the role of the lethal apex predator. "They think the restructuring has made us vulnerable," Vincent stated, his voice a low, vibrating hum of absolute danger. "They assume the death of the East Coast bosses created a blind spot in our maritime logistics." Silas nodded grimly, crossing his arms. "They have a freighter, the Vanguard, sitting just outside international waters. Intel suggests it is loaded with unregistered weaponry and untraceable cash, intended to fund a proxy war in our streets." Vincent adjusted the cuffs of his crisp white shirt, the sharp, elegant tattoos on his neck flexing slightly. "We do not allow foreign entities to anchor at our gates," Vincent commanded, his volume incredibly low but absolute. "Mobilize the maritime strike teams. I want that freighter boarded and seized before the sun sets. And Silas, I want the captain brought to me alive." Vincent walked back toward the living room, ensuring his family was perfectly insulated from the violence he was about to unleash. The Sicilians were about to learn a terrifying lesson.
