Chapter 11 - The Ghost of the Past
The transition from an underworld kingpin to a legitimate businessman was not without its shadows.
Gunther had washed the blood from his hands, but the city still remembered the monster.
It was a cold November morning when the first sign of trouble arrived at the port.
Kayla sat at her beautiful antique desk in the study, reviewing the shipping manifests for the week.
She was brilliant with numbers, catching discrepancies that even Gunther’s top accountants missed.
She frowned, tracing her finger down a printed ledger of incoming cargo from Italy.
Three massive shipping containers were listed as textiles, but the weight was entirely wrong.
They were far too heavy to be filled with silk and cotton.
She stood up and walked over to Gunther, who was on the phone near the large windows.
He held up a finger, swiftly finishing his conversation before turning his full attention to his wife.
"What is it, my love?" Gunther asked, seeing the tight line of her jaw.
Kayla handed him the ledger, pointing to the highlighted numbers.
"Someone is smuggling heavy cargo through Pier Four," she explained.
"And they are using our legitimate tax stamps to bypass customs."
Gunther’s eyes darkened instantly, his mind calculating the impossible error.
He had completely locked down the docks six months ago.
Nobody moved a single crate without his explicit authorization.
He pulled his phone back out and dialed Victor Romano’s encrypted number.
"Victor, meet me at Pier Four in twenty minutes," Gunther ordered coldly.
"We have a rat in the logistics department."
Kayla watched the familiar, terrifying coldness return to her husband's eyes.
She stepped forward and placed her hand gently over his clenched fist.
"I am coming with you," Kayla stated firmly.
Gunther immediately shook his head.
"Absolutely not," he replied.
"If someone is moving contraband, it is dangerous."
"I am your logistics director now, Gunther," Kayla reminded him, lifting her chin.
"I found the discrepancy."
"I am going."
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Gunther stared at her, caught between his desperate need to protect her and his profound respect for her strength.
He sighed, knowing he could never win an argument against the woman who held his heart.
