THE MAFIA BOSS’S DAUGHTER

“Are you implying Marcus is innocent, Mr. Vale?” Mara asked, her heart hammering against her ribs, though her face remained an impassive mask.

“I’m implying that looking at digital logs can be terribly misleading when the person writing the code knows how to manipulate the timestamps,” Lorenzo said smoothly, setting his coffee cup down on the edge of the metal desk. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Julian Cross was a fool. He thought he could play the Milwaukee syndicate against Dante and come out wealthy. But Julian didn't draft the plan to poison little Ava.”

Mara stared at him, the pieces suddenly clicking together in a terrifying, cohesive mosaic. “It wasn't Milwaukee.”

“Of course not,” Lorenzo smiled, a chillingly pleasant expression. “Milwaukee lacks the finesse for corporate restructuring. But an ambitious legal counsel who has spent twenty years watching a mafia boss grow soft because of a six-year-old daughter? That requires a different kind of strategy. Dante is losing his edge, Mara. Bellamy House was supposed to be a fortress, but sentimentality makes rulers weak.”

Mara’s hand slid subtly toward her pocket, her fingers brushing the panic button. “You set Julian up. You leaked the blueprints, you framed Marcus, and you tried to kill Dante’s daughter just to force a corporate coup.”

“Such a sharp mind,” Lorenzo sighed, shaking his head with mock sorrow. “It’s a tragedy you won’t be around to enjoy your new salary, my dear. You really should have stayed invisible.”

Before Lorenzo could reach into his jacket, Mara slammed her fist down onto the panic button beneath the desk.

BZZZZT!

A piercing alarm shrieked through the subterranean archives, red emergency strobe lights flashing violently against the concrete walls. But Lorenzo didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled wider, pulling a heavy brass key from his pocket and casually tapping it against the main server rack.

“You think the panic button alerts security?” Lorenzo chuckled softly. “Mara, dear... I wrote the security protocols for this building. That button just locked the blast doors from the outside.”