Chapter 31
The profound peace of the new Caruso compound was an absolute, fortified triumph. The grand living room was bathed in bright, cinematic natural light, entirely devoid of any dull, yellow tint. The vivid colors of the pristine marble floors gleamed flawlessly beneath the morning sun. Vincent Caruso stood near the towering windows, a monument of lethal, masculine power. At thirty-two, he remained as handsome as a classic movie star. His thick, slightly wavy dark hair was slicked back, with loose strands falling effortlessly over his forehead. He wore a tailored dark three-piece suit, his crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar to reveal the edge of his artistic, refined tattoos. The designs crept up his neck and extended across his hands, utilizing enough negative space to look elegant rather than dense. He watched his wife, Evelyn, and their daughter, Clara, walking in the lush gardens. The heavy oak doors clicked open, and Silas stepped into the bright room. "Boss," Silas said, his crisp American accent laced with tension. "We have a situation. A corrupt federal prosecutor, Senator Hayes, is moving to freeze our legitimate shipping assets. He is being funded by the remnants of the New York Commission."
