Chapter 23 - Shadows of the Past
Even in an empire built on absolute power and calculated control, ghosts of the past occasionally rise to test the foundation. Six months after the fall of the Moretti syndicate, an uninvited letter arrived at the Rossi estate. It bore no return address, no postmark, and no digital signature. Inside was a single sheet of yellowed parchment containing a string of numbers and a handwritten sentence in the archaic Sicilian dialect Tessa knew by heart: The debt of blood is never truly washed clean until the last ledger is balanced.
Gabriel stared at the note across the breakfast table, his jaw tightening into a hard, dangerous line. "It's a remnant from the old Palermo faction—an old ally of Donato who managed to slip across the Atlantic while we were consolidating power. They think we're vulnerable because we transitioned into legitimate business."
Tessa didn't panic. She poured herself a cup of black coffee, took a calm sip, and set the ceramic mug down with a soft click. "They think a handwritten threat in a dead language is going to scare us into surrendering our ports? They don't know who they're dealing with."
"Marcus is tracing the IP address of the digital courier who dropped the envelope," Gabriel said, his hand resting protectively over hers on the mahogany table. "I'm increasing security around the estate. You're not stepping foot outside without an armed detail."
"I am not a prisoner in my own home, Gabriel," Tessa replied firmly, her eyes flashing with the same unyielding steel that had once stunned Don Salvatore in the restaurant. "If someone wants to challenge the Rossi family, hiding behind gates won't stop them. We draw them out. On our terms."
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Gabriel looked at her for a long, silent moment, a slow, proud smile breaking through his serious expression. "You really are my wife, aren't you? You never back down from a fight."
"I learned from the best," Tessa smiled, standing up from the table. "Now, let's go see what Marcus found."
