Chapter 58 - The Fall of the House of Castiglione
Julian delivered a devastating roundhouse kick that sent Victor crashing through a glass display case of antique swords. Victor groaned, blood bubbling from his mouth, his weapon sliding across the floor directly to Julian's feet.
"It's over, Victor," Julian said, standing over his fallen brother. "The Interpol strike team Sarah contacted has already cordoned off every canal in Venice. Your escape routes are gone."
Suddenly, the Palazzo's auxiliary emergency lights flickered on, bathing the destruction in a harsh, cold white glare.
Dozens of high-ranking Syndicate leaders lay cowering beneath banquet tables, their masks discarded, while Interpol tactical teams in black tactical gear burst through every balcony and water gate, assault rifles raised.
"Drop your weapons! European Law Enforcement Command! Nobody move!" the loudspeakers boomed.
Eleanor slowly sank onto the marble steps, her tiara tumbling off and rolling toward my boots. She looked up at me, broken, defeated, and ancient.
"You took everything from me..." she choked out.
"No," I replied, looking down at her with neither pity nor joy, only absolute justice. "I took back what was mine. My father’s name. My son’s freedom. And the dignity you stole from innocent lives."
I turned away as tactical officers moved in, clamping heavy steel cuffs around Eleanor’s wrists and dragging Victor away in chains. The grand hall, once the secret sanctuary of untouchable monsters, had become their prison.
Julian walked up to me, wiping a cut above his eye with his sleeve. "The Italian authorities have secured the safe-house in Tuscany. Sarah reports that Leo just woke up, ate breakfast, and asked if Mommy was coming home."
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The stone that had weighed down my chest for two years finally dissolved into warm, boundless air.
"Let's go home, Julian," I said, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time in years.
