Chapter 2

Victor’s men blocked my path to the command center.

Dozens of red laser sights cut through the dark, painting my chest like a scattered target. The synchronized clack of safety catches being released echoed over the roaring ocean winds.

Victor slowly leaned back, inching his forehead away from the barrel of my Beretta. The venom in his eyes morphed into a mocking, arrogant sneer. "Shoot me, Vera. Pull the trigger. Let's see if you can dodge twenty bullets before you hit the deck."

Splash. Splash. Behind him, the continuous sound of the rescue divers hitting the freezing water reached my ears.

My eyes flicked past his shoulder. The operation was underway. My command had been executed. I didn't need to waste a bullet on him tonight—dying right now would be far too easy for him.

With a cold, dismissive chuckle, I deliberately lowered the gun and smoothly slid it back into my waist holster. "You think you can intimidate me with the stray dogs I allowed you to feed?"

Seeing my weapon lowered, Victor immediately exhaled, reclaiming his faux-alpha posture. He retreated quickly, stepping securely behind their wall of muscle. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, raw, unhinged brutality blazing in his eyes.

“Escort the Madam to the lounge. No one lets her step foot outside until I say so.” Victor wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, raw, unhinged brutality blazing in his eyes.

“Victor, you’re placing me under house arrest?” I let out a cold, bitter laugh.

“I’m doing this for your own good, Vera. You’re way too heated to handle this crisis rationally.” Victor smoothed his rumpled tie, slipping back into that fake polished gentleman act. “This turf’s mine now. I’m taking full charge of all search and recovery operations, plus every investigation into what went down tonight.”

The rescue dragged on for three straight hours.

The yacht had burned down to a charred metal husk and sunk to the ocean floor. Divers pulled two unrecognizable bodies from the wreckage zone. Blasted by the explosion and searing flames, the corpses were completely carbonized; no facial features could be made out at all.

The second Victor laid eyes on the bodies, a flicker of barely concealed triumph crossed his face. He thought he’d finally wiped Dante and my mother off the board—removed the two biggest roadblocks standing between him and full control of the family syndicate.

Four a.m., inside the cold storage office at our private family dock.

Thick, cloying iron tang of blood mixed with sharp formaldehyde hung heavy in every breath. Victor sat behind the desk, lighting a thick Cuban cigar, oozing the arrogant air of a boss who held all the cards. Lilia perched right on his lap, simpering as she kneaded his shoulders.

“Vera, what’s done is done. We’ve gotta look forward from here.” Victor exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and tossed a thick stack of paperwork onto the table in front of me.

I glanced at the bold header printed across the cover: Internal Incident Report: Dante Corsica’s Illicit Contraband Transaction Causing Yacht Detonation.

“What’s this garbage supposed to mean?” I leaned back against the leather sofa, crossing one leg over the other, staring him down without a single flicker of emotion.

Victor tapped the desktop hard, putting on a holier-than-thou front like he was only acting in the clan’s best interest. “I sent my guys to dig up the facts. Dante didn’t sail out for a vacation tonight—he was running contraband shipments on that boat. A bad batch of product ignited and blew the yacht sky-high. Lilia’s jet ski just happened to pass through the blast radius; she got caught up in the mess by pure accident.”

He was twisting the truth upside down, fabricating lies out of thin air.

Not only did he plan to cover up Lilia’s drunk jet ski crash and double murder, he intended to dump every ounce of blame on the “dead” Dante.

“And what exactly do you want from me?” My tone stayed flat, no anger, no tremor whatsoever.

“Simple. To protect the family’s reputation, this whole disaster gets buried deep. The Elders’ Council and every cop on the coast can never find out the real story.” Victor stood and strode over to tower over me, his gaze sharp and threatening. “I already had the two bodies sealed inside concrete barrels. We sink ’em out in international waters before dawn. All you gotta do is sign this private settlement document admitting Dante’s entirely at fault, and I’ll act like none of this ever happened. We can go back to being a normal married couple.”

Lilia piped up beside him, barely hiding the smug glee in her voice. “C’mon, Vera honey. Victor’s only doing all this to keep our syndicate intact. Your brother was running contraband—he brought this death on himself. Don’t let your stupid pride ruin everything Victor’s worked so hard to build.”

I stared at the pair of them, no rage stirring in my chest—only icy detachment, like I was watching two corpses already laid out for burial.

“The case isn’t closed. Forensics haven’t run a single DNA test, and you’re already rushing to destroy the bodies and forge fake official reports.” I locked my gaze straight on Victor’s. “You’re breaking the unbreakable code of La Cosa Nostra.”

“The code?” Victor barked out a loud, mocking laugh like I’d just told the dumbest joke he’d ever heard. “Wake up, Vera! Every dock along the coast, every smuggling route—all run by my men now. I am the rules around here.”

He lunged forward, leaning inches from my face, his voice dropping to a venomous hiss. “Your mom and brother are gone. You’ve got nothing left except me. Sign the papers quietly, and you’ll hold onto whatever tiny shred of dignity you’ve got left. If you refuse? I won’t hesitate to lay every detail out for the Elders—tell them you, his own sister, turned a blind eye while Dante trafficked contraband.”

He was threatening me. Using the power I’d handed him to corner me into surrender.

If this were the old Vera, blinded by love, his manipulative mixed threats and sweet promises might’ve shaken me. But that woman’s long gone.

I brushed my fingers subtly over the encrypted burner phone tucked in my pocket and glanced down at the text message.

[Your yacht got rammed and sunk by Lilia. Everyone aboard went down with it. Pull all the vessel’s surveillance footage from the cloud storage right away. Send me every piece of evidence the second you find anything.]

I stared at Victor’s face, brimming with overconfident triumph, and a bone-chilling cold smirk tugged at my lips.

“Fine.” I stood up, ignoring the unsigned paperwork entirely, and headed straight for the office door. “If you’re in such a rush to dump those bodies out on open water, I’ll tag along to send them off one last time.”

Victor froze for a split second, clearly not expecting me to surrender so calmly. He quickly curled his lip into a sneer. “Suit yourself. Just don’t throw a screaming meltdown down at the docks.”

He spun around and left with Lilia clinging to his side.

The second the office door clicked shut, I pulled a backup satellite phone hidden inside my combat boot and dialed a number only every head of the Corsica bloodline had ever known.

“Initiate Protocol Black Flame. Lock down Dock One. Not a single soul gets past the perimeter—no exceptions.”

The hunt begins now.