The Romano family headquarters was nothing short of colossal.
Located in Granavilés, the massive estate stretched across the land like a fortress, its imposing structures and vast grounds built to display absolute power. High walls surrounded the entire compound, guarded and reinforced, making it clear that this place wasn't meant for ordinary visitors.
At the heart of the estate stood the main building, a towering structure where they handled their affairs. Around it were several other large facilities.
There was an armory where weapons were stored and maintained, a training hall where members of the family's forces sharpened their skills, and a long garage filled with armored vehicles used for operations. Barracks housed trusted soldiers, while a separate administrative building handled communication, records, and logistics.
The car carrying the head of the family finally arrived. Men in dark suits formed straight lines along the driveway, standing at attention as Czar stepped out.
His long coat flared behind him with each decisive step as he strode into the main building.
"Any update on Dante?" he asked as the elevator climbed toward the top floor.
His aide, a sixty-five-year-old man with decades of experience, replied, "Soren will bring him here shortly. He intercepted Dante before he could board the ship abroad."
"Tell Soren I'll take care of him personally."
"Understood, sir," Mr. Hawke, the aide, answered.
They stepped out of the elevator to go to Czar's office. "Status of the shipment?" he asked.
"All crates left the warehouse on schedule," Mr. Hawke replied, voice steady. "Marseille confirmed delivery this morning."
"And the money?"
"Transferred, all accounts cleared," the aide said. "One of the checkpoints raised questions and the transport team had to reroute the crates at the last minute, but we handled it. We've tightened security and doubled oversight."
"Good. Keep it tight."
Czar sank into his chair and began going through the stack of documents on his desk. Before he could dive in, Mr. Hawke stepped forward and placed a sealed envelope in front of him.
"This is the information you requested me to gather."
Czar raised one eyebrow and pulled the papers from the envelope. His eyes flicked over the documents as Mr. Hawke briefed him.
"There's no registered father listed for the boy. After digging deeper into the divorce records, it appears Galen Cavalier had an affair with Brielle Rousseau, the youngest of the Rousseau family. She was, and still is, seen going in and out of the Cavalier mansion."
The first time they ran a background check on Roseanne, it only covered the basics. She was the eldest daughter of Charles Rousseau, a loyal dog of the Mancinis. That alone made Czar suspicious, she could be a spy slipping through his territory under everyone's nose.
But he needed more. He wanted every detail about the woman he had slept with. What kind of life she led, who she kept close, the identity of the boy he had seen last time, and every single thing he couldn't afford to miss.
Czar flipped to the next page where photos were attached: Roseanne at a hotel bar that night four years ago and another showing her walk out of an obgyn office in a hospital.
He tightened his jaw.
"We went through every hospital she could have possibly visited for a check-up and found one. This CCTV footage is from the day after the divorce was finalized, roughly three months after she first met you."
"Huh," he muttered, a low, dark scoff escaping him.
Ever since seeing the boy outside the office last time, knowing his age, Czar had considered the possibility that he might be the father. But every time he remembered she had been Galen Cavalier's wife, he pushed the thought aside. Galen being the father had always seemed more likely.
But what?
He had an affair with the younger sister?
Rotten scum.
"Run a DNA test," he ordered.
"We already have, sir," Mr. Hawke replied. "We took the boy's toothbrush from the daycare and the next page should show the test results."
Of course, for them, obtaining whatever they needed was never that difficult, especially for a simple test like this. Before Czar could flip to the next page, the aide spoke again.
"Also, this came in this morning."
Mr. Hawke placed another set of photos on the desk. Czar examined them and saw Roseanne, her son, and a far too familiar man in what looked like an arcade. The man wore a hat and a jacket zipped high around his collar, but Czar recognized him instantly.
Matteo Mancini.
He wasn't surprised. That lousy bastard would jump at any chance to spy and gather information on him or any of the Romanos.
How dare he show up in his territory.
"They were seen at an arcade in Ougena yesterday. It was brief, he left after talking for just a few minutes."
Czar shifted his attention from the photos back to the earlier document and flipped to the next page to see the results of the test.
And there it was.
A low, dark grin spread across his face as his gaze sharpened, menacing and calculating. What an interesting turn of events.
So this was what Roseanne Rousseau had been trying so hard to hide from him. He could see the panic all over her face every single time, it was very adorable.
Then he laughed.
A deep, cold, amused sound filled the office. Mr. Hawke had to close his eyes politely as Czar leaned back in his chair, laughter filling the room. His mood had clearly lifted.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," Czar said, voice sharp, still carrying that undercurrent of menace.
"Boss, Soren has arrived. He's waiting for you in the basement," one of his men reported.
Without waiting any longer, Czar rose from his seat and left the office. Followed by Mr. Hawke and the man who had brought him the report, he rode the elevator all the way down to the basement; the vast, dark space reserved for things that could never see the light of day.
The men in the room straightened as he arrived. Soren, one of his most trusted men, stepped forward.
"I apologize for the delay, Boss. I'll be sure to handle things faster in the future," the young man said, handing him a gun.
Dante, who had been kneeling the entire time, finally screamed, tears streaking his face. "SIR! PLEASE! HAVE MERCY! I WASN'T IN MY RIGHT MIND! PLEASE… SPARE ME!!"
He slammed his head repeatedly against the floor in desperation, his hands tied behind his back.
"If you're going to regret it anyway, why do it in the first place?" Czar said, taking the gun from Soren as he stepped toward Dante. "You know how I deal with traitors."
"PLEASE, SIR! I'LL DO ANYTHING!! I HAVE A WIFE!" Dante's cries and sobs echoed through the basement.
"I HAVE A SON… PLEASE… I'M SORRY… PLEASE SPARE ME!!"
Czar pressed his shoe against Dante's head, looking down at him. "You know what? Since I'm in a good mood, I'll make this quick for you."
"Please… please don't kill me…"
He sighed and pointed the gun at his head.
"Because apparently, I have a son too."
BANG!