Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR UNMASKED IN THE WAR ROOM
The wreckage in the foyer had been cleared by noon, the broken window replaced by reinforced steel shutters before the local police even had a chance to patrol past the gates. Inside the subterranean high-security war room beneath the estate, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
Damian sat at the head of a massive mahogany table, his knuckles bruised, staring at a digital display showing security camera footage from the night before. Standing around the table were Victor, Mrs. Gable, and two senior security chiefs.
Natalie sat quietly in the corner, nursing a cup of black coffee, her hands still faintly trembling from the morning's shootout.
“The attack wasn't random,” Damian said, his voice dangerously low. “They knew the exact blind spot in our perimeter sensors near the north generator. Only three people in this room have clearance to access the master grid schematic.”
Victor shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting toward the security chiefs. “Boss, you don't think—”
“I don't think, Victor. I verify,” Damian interrupted, tapping a keystroke on his laptop. The screen flickered, displaying a financial ledger alongside encrypted communication logs intercepted from an offshore server. “For the past three months, someone inside my inner circle has been feeding the Marcone syndicate our transport schedules, warehouse codes, and personal security rotations.”
A heavy silence descended over the room.
“Who?” Mrs. Gable asked coldly.
Damian turned the laptop screen toward the center of the table. Highlighted in red was a series of wire transfers originating from a Swiss bank account linked directly to Sal Marcone—transfers routed through an encrypted terminal registered to the estate's logistics controller.
Victor stared at the screen, his face turning pale. “That terminal... that's assigned to Miller.”
One of the senior security chiefs, a burly man named Marcus Miller who had worked for the DeLuca family for over a decade, slowly reached inside his jacket.
“Don't even think about it, Marcus,” Damian warned, not looking up, though his hand rested casually inches from a concealed holster.
Marcus froze, his hand hovering over his shoulder holster. A bitter, twisted smile spread across his face. “You built this empire on blood and fear, Damian. You thought you could go legit with the shipping ports while keeping your hands dirty. Marcone offered me a lifetime pension to step aside and let him take your throne.”
“My throne is built on loyalty, not pension plans,” Damian said softly. He stood up slowly, towering over the table.
Before Marcus could draw his weapon, Victor moved with terrifying velocity, tackling the traitor across the table and pinning him to the polished wood with a sickening crunch. Marcus groaned, his weapon clattering to the floor.
Damian looked down at him with dead eyes. “Take him to the basement warehouse. We have questions to ask about who else in Chicago is backing Marcone.”
As the guards dragged a screaming Marcus out of the room, Damian turned his gaze toward Natalie in the corner. She hadn't looked away during the confrontation. She had watched a man betrayed and broken without flinching.
Damian walked over to her, his expression unreadable. “You aren't screaming, Natalie. Most women would be packing their bags by now.”
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“I have a sister depending on me, and an autistic little girl upstairs who trusts me,” Natalie said, meeting his intense gaze head-on. “Running away doesn't solve anything, Mr. DeLuca. It just delays the inevitable.”
Damian studied her for a long moment, a rare, genuine spark of admiration flickering in his dark eyes. “You're tougher than you look, Natalie Carter. But the storm isn't over yet. Marcone knows his inside man failed. His next move won't be an infiltration. It will be an all-out war.”
