Chapter 787
Raphael
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The helicopter cut through the night without a single unnecessary light.
Philadelphia was still ahead of us.
I could already see its glow through the dark glass.
I sat alone in the rear cabin, one hand resting on my phone while the other moved through the equipment laid out beside me.
Everything had its place.
Everything had a purpose.
Nothing came with me because I might need it. It came because I had already calculated the situations in which I would need it.
My hands moved automatically, sliding the slick slide of my customized 9mm handgun backward. Click. The spring was taut, perfectly greased. I inspected the chamber, released the slide, and slotted the weapon back into the tactical holster strapped tight across my chest.
Next was the suppressed rifle resting across my lap. I popped out the magazine, checked the spring tension of the thirty brass rounds packed inside, and clicked it back into place.
Everything had to be flawless. I didn’t rely on luck. I relied on calculation, precision, and fucking force.
I had mapped out every single entry point into the Toricelli estate six moves ago. I knew where their guards rotated, I knew which security cameras had a three-second blind spot, and I knew exactly how many seconds it would take for their backup teams to respond once the first alarm tripped.
Then, the silent submachine guns, fitted with custom-built suppressors I had machined myself to eliminate even the smallest flash of light.
I loaded armor-piercing rounds into every single clip, bullets designed to punch straight through the heavy Kevlar vests of the Philadelphia Syndicate’s elite guards.
They thought they had drawn a line in the sand with their Council rules. They thought hiding behind syndicate borders would keep them safe from me. My mind ran through the possibilities again.
I checked the screen on my phone. The tracker was still inside the Toricelli Estate. A small green marker pulsed against the map.
I stared at it.
There.
My thumb stopped above the screen.
She had sent me hundreds of photographs, files, names, research notes, reports, everything she had managed to capture. I hadn’t read through a single one, not yet. I forwarded the entire package to Vincenzo and Adriano without opening the files myself.
They needed the evidence more than I did right now. I sent the files in one encrypted bundle, then another copy
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through a separate channel.
First I sent them to Vincenzo.
Me: Everything Gianna sent me. Have Silvio go through every page.
Then I sent the same package to Adriano.
Me: Find anything that can strengthen our case before the Council. Financial records. Names. Dates. Anything connecting Toricelli, Vance, and the operation. I want it all.
I watched the delivery confirmations appear one after another. I didn’t need to know what was inside yet.
I trusted Gianna.
If she had risked everything to get those files to me, then they mattered. My thumb hovered over her last message.
I love you.
I had read it three times.
My jaw tightened. She had written as if she had already accepted that she might die.
That wasn’t happening, not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever. I leaned back and closed my eyes for half a second.
Think.
Emotion was noise.
Noise got people killed.
If I let anger take the wheel now, I could lose my focus. One wrong decision. One second of hesitation and Gianna could pay for it. I couldn’t afford that.
I opened my eyes again, the map was still moving.
Good.
I had a location.
That was enough.
For now.
Across from me, the secured cases remained closed. I had brought enough equipment to handle problems I expected and a few I didn’t. Medical supplies. Communication gear. Protective equipment. Tools for getting through locked doors if I needed them.
And weapons.
More than enough. I didn’t plan to use most of them. That was the point. A man who needed every weapon he carried had already lost control of the situation. I checked each case once more, then closed the last one..
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