Chapter 6 - The Traitor's Scent in the Inner Circle
By dawn, the penthouse had been converted into a command center. Frankie sat at the kitchen counter having his shoulder stitched by a private syndicate doctor, while Enzo stood before a wall of security monitors displaying various warehouses across the city.
Khloe sat on the sofa, holding a mug of black coffee, wearing an oversized sweater and dark jeans. The adrenaline from the shootout had worn off, leaving a deep, quiet resolve in its place.
“Sal is meeting Marcone's men at noon at the old railyard,” Enzo stated, pointing to a tactical satellite map. “He thinks our car was destroyed and that we are lying low in a safehouse.”
“You can’t just walk in with guns,” Khloe said, stepping toward the table. “Sal has twenty men stationed there. If you start a firefight in broad daylight, the federal task force will shut down every legitimate business the Bianke family owns.”
Enzo turned to her, crossing his arms. “And what does my cultural liaison propose?”
Khloe tapped the screen. “Sal has an offshore account tied to his shipping shell company in Panama. My father used to work in maritime logistics before he got sick; I know how those bills of lading work. Sal didn't just take a bribe—he forged your signature on the customs release forms for Pier 42. If you expose the forgery to the Commission, Don Marcone will have to abandon Sal to save his own skin.”
Enzo stared at her for a long moment, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. “You understand corporate warfare just as well as street warfare.”
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“Greed is the same everywhere,” Khloe said. “Whether you’re stealing tips from the waitstaff or stealing millions from the docks.”
“Frankie,” Enzo called out. “Get our financial team on the line. We pull Sal’s access before noon.”
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