LUCA'S POV
There was a firm and steady knock on my office door. Before Marco even spoke, I recognized him by the knock. He always knocked the same way when the news was heavy.
"Come in."
Marco entered and shut the door behind him with a soft click. He stood facing the desk, shoulders tense, hands clasped in front of him as if he was reporting for duty.
"Boss," he murmured. "I went through all that was left of the Vitale holdings. The fire destroyed them completely. Warehouses, safe houses, the hidden accounts we knew about—all gone. Burnt clean. Serena's empire, what remains of it, is just ashes now. No records, no contacts, no money trails we can use. I tried to find some source. Nothing good coming from it."
I tapped my finger on the wooden arm. I had a feeling this was coming. Nonetheless, the reality of it seemed to make the years of planning even more burdensome. Seven years of hate, and in the end, the cut was so clean that there was nothing else to squeeze out for more.
