Chapter 19
Apr 18, 2025
Celeste watched as her father’s men dragged in their second informant of the week—a bookkeeper who’d worked for both Lombardi and Koslov.
Salvatore stood in the shadows, his presence more threatening than any weapon.
“Tell my daughter what you told me,” he ordered, voice soft but carrying immense weight.
The bookkeeper trembled, glancing between father and daughter. “They’ll kill me.”
“We’ll kill you slower,” Celeste replied, examining her nails. “Your choice.”
He broke faster than expected.
“It’s called the Shadow Council,” he gasped. “A coalition of the oldest families—the ones who operated before any of us were born. They’ve been watching, waiting…”
“For what?” Celeste stepped closer.
“For weakness. When you and De Luca started fighting, it created an opening. They want to destabilize both families, then take over the territory.”
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed. “Names.”
“I don’t—” The bookkeeper flinched as Angelo stepped forward. “Wait! I only know about Viktor Koslov and Lombardi. But there are others. At least six more on the council. They have connections everywhere—politics, law enforcement, international trade…”
Celeste exchanged a look with her father. This was bigger than they’d imagined.
“The attacks,” she said slowly. “They weren’t just about territory. They were testing our defenses.”
“Like wolves circling prey,” Salvatore agreed, his expression dark. “Waiting to see where we’re vulnerable.”
“They’ve been planning this for years.” The bookkeeper nodded frantically. “Building networks, gathering intelligence. The war between you and De Luca just accelerated their timeline.”
Celeste’s phone buzzed—a news alert. She opened it, then went very still.
“Speaking of De Luca…” She turned the screen toward her father. “Looks like someone just made another move.”
* * *
The raid hit at dawn.
Stephan watched from his office window as federal agents swarmed his flagship hotel, their vehicles creating a sea of flashing lights in the early morning gloom.
The sight made something cold and deadly curl in his chest.
“They had a warrant,” Mikey reported, standing tensely behind him. “Specific intelligence about money laundering through the hotel’s accounts.”
“Impossible.” Stephan’s voice was very quiet. “Those accounts were clean.”
“They were. Until someone planted evidence three days ago.”
Stephan didn’t need to ask who. He’d seen Catherine slip out last night, had been tracking her movements. But he hadn’t expected her to move this quickly.
“Boss?” Mikey shifted uncomfortably. “What do you want us to do?”
Before Stephan could answer, the door opened. Catherine walked in like she owned the place, looking immaculate in a cream-colored suit.
“Leave us,” Stephan ordered, not taking his eyes off her.
Mikey hesitated only briefly before complying. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving predator and prey alone.
Or perhaps they were both predators now.
“Quite a show downstairs,” Catherine said, moving to pour herself a drink. Her hand didn’t shake at all. “The press is having a field day.”
Stephan watched her, letting the silence stretch. She’d always hated when he did that.
Finally, he spoke. “Do you think this is a game?”
Catherine’s smile was sharp as she turned to face him.
“No, honey.” She stalked closer, all feline grace and contained violence. “I think this is a warning.”
Her fingers traced his jaw, nails scraping lightly against his skin. Another woman might have missed the way his muscles tensed, the dangerous stillness that settled over him.
But Catherine knew exactly what she was provoking.
“Stay in line, Stephan,” she purred. “I won’t be so gentle next time.”
His hand shot up, catching her wrist in a grip just shy of bruising. “You have no idea what you’ve started.”
“Don’t I?” She didn’t try to pull away. “I warned you about Celeste. About choosing sides. Now you’re facing the consequences.”
“The consequences.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’re playing with forces you don’t understand, Cat. Your family’s influence, your political connections—they won’t protect you forever.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No.” He released her wrist and stepped back. “That’s a promise.”
Catherine’s composure cracked slightly. For the first time, real uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
“We’re getting married in three weeks,” she said, and it sounded almost like a plea. “Don’t throw everything away for her.”
“You’re right about one thing.” Stephan turned back to the window, watching the chaos below. “I am throwing everything away. Just not for the reasons you think.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t answer. After a moment, Catherine’s heels clicked across the floor as she left, the door closing behind her with finality.
Stephan waited until her footsteps faded before pulling out his phone. He dialed a number he’d memorized but never used.
“It’s time,” he said when the line connected. “Execute Protocol Seven.”
He ended the call and poured himself a drink, watching the sun rise over his crumbling empire. By sunset, the Durand family would understand exactly what they’d provoked.
There would be no wedding. No peaceful resolution. Catherine had made her choice, and now she would learn what it meant to threaten a De Luca.
His phone buzzed again—a message from one of his surveillance teams:
“Shadow Council confirmed. Multiple players involved. Permission to proceed?”
Stephan’s fingers tightened on his glass.
So it was true.
They weren’t just fighting Catherine and her family. They were up against something much older, much more dangerous.
He thought of Celeste, wondering if she’d discovered the same thing. They would need to work together now, whether Catherine liked it or not.
His empire might be under attack, but Stephan felt strangely calm. He’d built his power from nothing once before. He could do it again.
But this time, he’d make sure his enemies didn’t just fall.
They would burn.
