Chapter 20 - The Unfinished Business
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The estate was quiet again. The rain had finally stopped, leaving a heavy, damp silence hanging over the Westchester woods.
Down in the security room, Victor sat in his leather chair, watching the monitors. Sylvia was sleeping peacefully, Marta sitting vigilantly in a comfortable chair beside the bed. Audrey was gone, handed over to Carlo for a fate Victor didn't need to know the details of. The threat was neutralized.
But Victor Costa didn't survive in the underworld by assuming the war was ever truly over.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out Audrey’s gold iPhone. His men had confiscated it before taking her away. Victor had forced her to unlock it using facial recognition before she was gagged.
He plugged the phone into his encrypted laptop, bypassing the local security and pulling up her private messaging apps. He scrolled past the frantic texts from her father about the Macau debts, past the gambling bookies threatening her life.
Then, he found a hidden, encrypted chat folder.
There was only one conversation thread inside. It wasn't with a bookie. It wasn't with her father.
The contact name was simply a single initial: “M.”
Victor opened the thread. The messages chilled the blood in his veins.
Audrey: "Victor is leaving for Chicago today. I’m increasing the dose tonight. It should be over by Friday."
M: "Make sure you clean the glass. If the toxicology report is clean, the trust fund hits your account by Monday. Transfer my 50% immediately, or I’ll tell Victor what you did."
Victor stared at the glowing screen. Audrey hadn't come up with the poison cocktail on her own. She had an accomplice. Someone who knew about Victor’s schedule, someone who knew how the Costa trust fund was structured, and someone who had access to untraceable underworld toxins.
Someone inside Victor’s own syndicate.
Victor closed the laptop, a dark, dangerous fire reigniting in his chest. He had saved his mother from the immediate threat, but the rot was deeper than a desperate fiancée. There was a traitor sitting at his own table.
He picked up his burner phone and dialed Carlo.
“Boss?” Carlo answered, the sound of a car engine roaring in the background. “The package has been delivered to the river.”
“Good,” Victor said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “Call all the lieutenants. I want every single captain at the warehouse by midnight.”
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“Is there a problem, Boss?”
“Yes,” Victor whispered into the dark room. “The hunt isn't over.”
