Chapter 13 - The Forbidden Name
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I stood up, holding onto the banister for support. "What are you talking about, Brandon?"
Brandon ignored me, keeping his eyes locked on my father.
"Thirty years ago, Marcus," Brandon said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "you burned down a warehouse in Chicago. You took over the northern territory. And you left a man bleeding out in the snow, thinking you ended his bloodline."
For the first time in my entire life, I saw uncertainty appear in my father’s eyes.
The color drained slightly from his weathered face. His grip tightened on his cane.
"Who sent you?" my father demanded, his voice suddenly lacking its earlier calm.
Brandon smiled, showing his teeth.
"Victor Romanov sends his regards."
The name hit the room like a physical shockwave. Even the men in black suits shifted nervously, exchanging worried glances.
I didn't know who Victor Romanov was, but the sheer terror in the air was palpable.
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"Victor is dead," my father whispered. "I put a bullet in his chest myself."
"He survived," Brandon replied smoothly. "And he spent the last thirty years building an empire in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to take the one thing you love most in this world."
