Chapter 11
The idyllic peace of the Italian countryside was something Julian Rossi had fought through blood and fire to achieve. For the first time in his life, the ruthless billionaire woke up without the heavy burden of corporate warfare weighing on his broad shoulders. He spent his mornings watching the Tuscan sun rise, the golden light spilling over the rolling vineyards that stretched as far as the eye could see.
But a man like Julian, someone who had built an empire on the ruins of his enemies, could never truly outrun his past.
Later that afternoon, while Elena was in the nursery putting little Isabella down for a nap, Julian’s secure satellite phone vibrated against the mahogany surface of his study desk. It was a private line, known only to three people in the entire world. He stared at the glowing screen for a long moment, feeling a cold, familiar knot form in the pit of his stomach.
He picked it up, pressing it to his ear.
"Speak," Julian commanded, his voice dropping an octave, slipping instantly back into the persona of the ruthless CEO.
"We have a problem in New York, Mr. Rossi," came the gravelly voice of Marcus, his head of global security. "A major problem."
"Victor and Camila are locked in federal solitary," Julian said, his jaw clenching. "And the Alcazar board was entirely purged. There should be no problems."
"It's not them directly, sir," Marcus replied, the tension clear in his tone. "It's a shadow corporation. They are buying up massive amounts of debt tied to the Alcazar's subsidiary properties. The funding is untraceable, completely buried in offshore shell accounts. But the aggressive tactics... they have Camila’s signature all over them."
Julian walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out toward the nursery wing where his wife and daughter were resting.
"She has thirty years without parole," Julian growled. "She shouldn't be able to make a single phone call without us knowing."
May you like
"Someone on the inside is helping her," Marcus confirmed grimly. "And they aren't just targeting the money, Julian. We intercepted a digital communication an hour ago. They were asking for the GPS coordinates of your Italian estate."
Julian’s blood turned to ice. "Double the perimeter guard. Nobody gets within a mile of this house. I will handle New York."
