# The Forensic Waitress and the Duca Empire

The executive suite on the fortieth floor of Duca Tower looked out over the glittering expanse of Lower Manhattan. For Cassidy Miller, stepping off the private elevator felt like walking onto another planet.

Gone was the cramped, grease-stained kitchen of The Gilded Sturgeon, the frantic shouts of the maître d’, and the constant, suffocating dread of the end-of-month bills. In its place stood a high-tech forensic accounting suite equipped with multiple monitors, real-time global market feeds, and an encrypted terminal connected directly to Duca Enterprises’ intelligence network.

Yet, the danger was just as real as any overdue notice.

Giovanni stood beside her desk as Cassidy’s fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up the transactional flow sheets of Meridian Logistics.

“Raskov is moving fast,” Giovanni muttered, crossing his arms. “Our intelligence feeds show that within two hours of the deal collapsing at the Gilded Sturgeon, Harrison Vane caught a private flight out of Teterboro Airport. Destination unknown, but his primary yacht is docked in Miami.”

“He’s running,” Cassidy said without looking up from her screen, her eyes scanning lines of algorithmic data. “He realizes that when Alessandro figures out the full extent of the fraud, a federal indictment will be the least of his problems.”

“Alessandro is already handling Vane’s associates in the city,” Giovanni replied grimly. “A man who tries to poison the Duca empire doesn't get a polite warning.”

Cassidy paused her typing. She looked up at the older man, her brow furrowed with concern. “Is Alessandro safe? The Russian syndicate isn't like local street thugs. They have international reach, political connections, and deep pockets.”

Giovanni let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Child, Alessandro didn't survive twenty years in this city by being cautious. He survived because he is three steps ahead of everyone else in the room. Your job isn't to worry about his safety. Your job is to follow the money until Raskov has nowhere left to hide.”

Cassidy nodded, turning back to her monitors. She isolated a hidden series of secondary wire transfers originating from Meridian Logistics that bypassed the Cayman Islands entirely, routing instead through a series of shell companies in Zurich.

“Found it,” she whispered.

“Talk to me,” Giovanni leaned in.

“Raskov isn't just propping up Vane,” Cassidy said, her voice dropping as the full picture came into focus. “He’s using Vane’s shipping terminals as a front to funnel weapons-grade tech components from Eastern Europe into North America, disguised as heavy machinery parts. If the feds had seized those terminals under Duca ownership, the Duca family would have taken the fall for international arms smuggling.”