Chapter 6 - The Titan's Retaliation
Vittorio Rossi did not look like a man whose daughter was in jail. He sat in the private dining room of The Mansion at Turtle Creek, cutting into a rare steak with a silver knife that caught the amber light of the chandelier. He was a man of sixty, with a thick mane of silver hair and eyes that had seen more backroom executions than boardroom meetings.
The double doors of the dining room opened, and Marcus Thorne walked in. He wasn't accompanied by lawyers or executives. He walked in alone, his hands tucked into the pockets of a tailored charcoal suit.
"Marcus," Vittorio said, not looking up from his plate. "Sit down. The ribeye is excellent tonight. I hear your wife had her baby early. Congratulations. A bit messy, but children usually are."
Marcus remained standing at the edge of the table. "I’m not here to eat with you, Vittorio. I’m here to give you your terms of surrender."
Vittorio let out a short, guttural laugh, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. "Surrender? To you? Young man, you seem to forget who holds the keys to your corporate survival. If I pull my shipping logistics from Thorne Enterprises tomorrow, your supply chains in Latin America collapse within forty-eight hours. Your stock price will drop so fast your board members will jump out of their windows."
"Then you should check the financial news before you take another bite," Marcus said, pulling a leather-bound folder from under his arm and dropping it onto the table, directly over Vittorio’s steak.
Vittorio frowned, his aristocratic composure slipping as he opened the folder. Inside were hundreds of pages of shipping manifests, customs declarations, and encrypted wire transfer receipts bearing the official stamp of the United States Department of Homeland Security.
"What is this?" Vittorio hissed, his eyes scanning the numbers.
"That is the complete paper trail for the illicit narcotics and untaxed firearms your shipping liners have been smuggling through the Port of Houston for the last seven years," Marcus said, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. "My security team didn't just dig into your corporate accounts, Vittorio. We spent the last twelve hours working with the federal maritime task force. We intercepted three of your cargo ships off the coast of Galveston at two o'clock this morning."
Vittorio slammed his hands onto the table, standing up so violently his wine glass tipped over, staining the white tablecloth a deep, bloody red. "You crazy bastard! You've ruined the merger! You've ruined us both!"
"I don't care about the merger," Marcus said, stepping closer until he could see the sweat forming on the older man's forehead. "Your daughter kicked my wife. She tried to kill my son. Did you honestly think I would care about a real estate portfolio after that?"
"I can have you erased before you leave this restaurant," Vittorio threatened, his voice dropping to a low, vicious snarl.
"You could try," Marcus replied, pointing a finger toward the window looking out into the courtyard.
May you like
Outside, the flashing red and blue lights of a dozen federal vehicles illuminated the brick walls of the restaurant. The sound of heavy tactical boots echoing through the lobby made Vittorio’s guards drop their weapons immediately.
"The FBI white-collar and organized crime units are here for you, Vittorio," Marcus said, turning his back on the shipping tycoon. "Your assets are frozen. Your daughter is staying in prison. And by tomorrow morning, the Rossi name will be nothing but a footnote in a federal indictment."
