Chapter 8 - THE SHADOW NETWORK
Vincent took a single, slow step toward Frankie. His heavy black leather shoes made a soft, ominous thud on the plush carpet.
"You knew," Vincent murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the low drone of the jet engines outside. "You knew who she was before she even stepped past the curtain."
"Boss... Boss, please," Frankie stammered, his voice cracking violently as he took an involuntary half-step back against the galley door. "It’s not... it’s not what you think. I swear to God, Mr. Moretti, I didn't know about the baby! I didn't know they put it in the blanket!"
Marco moved like a predator.
Before Frankie could finish his sentence, Marco closed the distance between them in two massive strides, grabbing Frankie by the throat with his broad, calloused hand and slamming him violently back against the bulkheads. The mahogany veneer cracked with a sharp, sickening sound. Marco held him pinned against the wall, his dark suit jacket pulling tight as his other hand jammed hard into Frankie’s ribs, locking him in place.
"Don't you dare speak to the Boss!" Marco growled into Frankie's ear, his voice thick with rage.
Baby Luca stirred slightly at the sound of the impact, letting out a faint whimper before settling back down against Vincent’s chest, exhausted.
Vincent didn't flinch. He walked over to where Marco held the struggling bodyguard pinned against the wall. He stood inches away from Frankie, his towering figure casting a complete shadow over the traitor.
"Who do you work for, Frankie?" Vincent asked softly. "Because you've been on my payroll for eight years. I paid for your house in Long Island. I paid for your daughter's medical bills. So tell me... who paid you enough to put a device on my infant son?"
Frankie was hyperventilating, his eyes darting frantically toward the small girl standing in the middle of the cabin.
"They're everywhere, Boss," Frankie sobbed, tears finally breaking past his eyelids, streaming down his pale, sweaty cheeks. "They're in New York. They're in London. They're in the federal agencies. They're in the families. They find the things people hide, Mr. Moretti! Sarah Carter found something she wasn't supposed to see ten years ago! She ran, but they never stop looking!"
Leah stepped closer to Vincent’s side. She wasn't afraid of Marco’s violence or Frankie’s tears. She was listening to every word, her light-gray eyes drinking in the puzzle pieces that had been kept from her for her entire life.
"Where is my mother?" Leah demanded, her small voice cutting through Frankie’s desperate sobbing like a silver blade. "Where is she?"
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Frankie looked down at the ten-year-old girl, his face twisted in a pathetic mask of terror and pity.
"She’s alive, kid," Frankie choked out, Marco’s grip tightening on his throat. "Or... or she was two days ago. They didn't kill her. They needed her to tell them where the second key was hidden. They thought... they thought she gave it to her kids before she vanished!"
