Chapter 5 - The Predator from Chicago
Before I could even process the chilling warning Julian Vance had delivered, my encrypted satellite phone buzzed violently on the hotel table.
I looked down at the screen.
Victoria Moretti.
My mother never called unless something catastrophic had occurred, or unless her relentless intelligence network had intercepted something critical.
I pressed accept and brought the phone to my ear, my jaw clenched.
“Adrian,” my mother's sharp, imperious voice echoed through the speaker before I could even speak. “Tell me the rumors echoing through the syndicate boardrooms right now are absolute nonsense.”
“What rumors, Mother?” I asked coldly, staring out at the Boston skyline.
“That you flew to Boston on a private jet like a lovestruck fool, and that your former wife Evelyn—the ungrateful girl who abandoned our family name—is currently living there with two children who happen to be the exact age of your biological heirs.”
My blood ran cold.
News traveled fast in the criminal underworld, but how my mother found out within twenty-four hours was staggering.
“Who told you this?” I demanded.
“It doesn't matter who told me, Adrian!” Victoria snapped, her voice rising in sharp fury. “What matters is whether those children carry Moretti blood. If Evelyn gave birth to my grandchildren, they belong to this family—not to some washed-up federal prosecutor in Massachusetts!”
“They are staying out of this,” I said firmly, my voice cutting through her demands like a steel blade. “This is my private affair, Mother. Do not interfere.”
“Your private affair?” Victoria laughed harshly on the other end of the line. “You fool! A Moretti heir cannot be raised by a federal prosecutor who spent his entire career trying to put men like us behind bars! If the commission or our rivals find out about those children, they will use them as leverage to destroy everything your father and you built!”
“I said stay out of it,” I repeated, my voice dropping into a deadly, menacing tone. “If you or any of your operatives touch Evelyn or the children, you will answer directly to me.”
“Is that a threat, Adrian?” Victoria hissed.
“It's a promise,” I replied, and abruptly hung up the phone.
I threw the phone onto the sofa, running my hands through my hair as the walls of the hotel suite seemed to close in around me.
My mother's toxic ambition was exactly what drove Evelyn away in the first place.
Victoria had terrorized Evelyn throughout our marriage, treating her like a breeding vessel for the Moretti dynasty rather than a human being.
If Victoria found out where Evelyn lived in Chestnut Hill, she wouldn't just send lawyers—she would send an army of ruthless fixers to snatch my children away by force.
Marcus walked back into the living room from the adjoining bedroom, his face grim.
“I heard the conversation, Boss,” Marcus said quietly. “Your mother isn't going to let this go. If she knows, it's only a matter of hours before her people in the East Coast syndicate wing track down Evelyn's address.”
“We need to move faster than my mother's operatives,” I said, my mind racing with desperate, high-stakes strategies. “We need to secure Evelyn and the twins before Victoria's people make their move.”
“Secure them?” Marcus looked at me incredulously. “Boss, after what Julian Vance told you tonight, and after everything Evelyn went through, they won't let us near them voluntarily.”
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“Then we protect them from the shadows,” I stated, grabbing my coat from the back of the sofa. “If my mother sends her fixers to Boston, they'll have to go through me first.”
“Where are we going now?” Marcus asked, grabbing his car keys.
