"He Knocked a Waitress Unconscious in Front of Everyone—Then the Mafia Boss Stood Up and Locked the Doors / Chapter 38 / 60

Chapter 38 - The Council's Ultimatum

By midnight, the silence of the underground sanctuary was broken by a single, high-priority ping on the secure terminal.

It was an unlisted IP address bypassing our firewalls—a direct video feed request bearing the crest of an obsidian crown.

Silas tapped the keyboard. The main projector screen flickered to life.

Sitting in a high-backed leather chair within what appeared to be a penthouse overlooking Central Park was a man in his late fifties. His hair was silver, his skin gaunt and pale, hooked up to an unobtrusive intravenous drip line. Julian Thorne himself. He possessed the predatory eyes of a viper that had swallowed empires whole.

"Major Marcone," Thorne spoke, his voice thin but laced with venomous authority. "You managed to survive my vanguard. Impressive. But your little underground sanctuary is not as secret as you believe."

The feed split into a picture-in-picture display.

My heart stopped.

The secondary screen showed Elena’s Diner—the small, battered diner where I had worked sixty hours a week, where Silas had first walked in and broken the fingers of the syndicate enforcers to save me. Outside the diner, parked along the wet pavement, were four black SUVs. Heavy assault teams with suppressed weapons stood quietly at the entrances, their barrels aimed at Mrs. Higgins, the sweet elderly baker who used to give Clara extra cinnamon rolls, and young Leo, the teenage dishwasher.

"A simple order," Thorne whispered, "and everyone who ever smiled at your family in that neighborhood dies in cold blood. You have six hours, Silas. Bring the child to the rooftop helipad of the Blackthorne Tower at Columbus Circle. Alone. If Elena Vance or any of your lieutenants accompany you, the order is given to burn the five boroughs."

"You touch one innocent civilian in my city," Silas growled, the monitors rattling from the intensity of his voice, "and I won't just kill you, Thorne. I will erase your name, your bloodline, and your entire consortium from human history."

"Six hours, Major," Thorne replied softly, and the screen cut to black.

I collapsed against the table, burying my face in my hands. "It never ends, Silas! It never ends! They will keep coming, using everyone we ever knew, until Clara is taken!"

Silas walked over, grabbed my hands, and pulled them away from my face. He forced me to look into his eyes—eyes that held no fear, no doubt, only an ocean of unyielding fire.