Chapter 160 (Elena's POV)

Chapter 160 (Elena's POV)

"Adrian?"

Still no sound from the other end.

"Hello? You still there?" I pulled the phone away from my ear to check—call active, full signal.

"…Yeah."

His voice sounded strange. As if drifting from somewhere very far away, carrying a heaviness I couldn't quite name.

"Are you okay?" I frowned. "You don't sound right."

"I'm fine." He cleared his throat, tone returning to its usual steadiness. "Good news."

"What?"

"The FBI federal investigation has officially launched. Treasury Department anti-money laundering investigation running in parallel."

I instantly perked up, letting out an excited shriek.

"One week? That's amazing! Thank you, Adrian!"

He laughed, tone growing even softer.

"Don't thank me. It's what I should do."

After hanging up, I paced three laps around the garage.

The federal investigation could destroy Ferrante's political network and financial chain—but that was only step one.

Ferrante's stronghold was in Palermo. The American branch could collapse and Salvatore Ferrante would still be sitting in his Sicilian estate, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

Political networks could be rebuilt. Financial chains could be reconnected.

To truly bring Ferrante down—required a more lethal strike.

But that was for later.

For now, win the battle in front of me.

Sudden rapid footsteps outside the door. Without turning: "Routine maintenance orders, please see Sofia in the back."

A long, slender hand grabbed my arm from behind.

"Hey—!" I turned, annoyed, then froze.

"Luca?"

His expression was cold. No explanation. He simply gripped my arm and pulled me toward the back of the garage.

"What are you doing?! Let go!"

He didn't.

Marcus poked his head out from under a car, saw the scene, eyes going round instantly, wrench raised—

"It's fine." I waved at him. "Keep working."

He hesitated, slowly lowered the wrench. But his gaze followed us until Luca pulled me into the back room and shut the door.

"Are you insane?" I shook his hand off. "Can't you just talk like a normal person?"

He turned to face me.

"Enzo has made his move."

My anger instantly halved.

"What do you mean?"

"This morning, he proposed to the council of elders that they review all my decisions from the past six months," he said, every word bitten clear. "Including the Chicago operations, Palermo personnel deployments, and my recent fund flows."

My back found the wall.

Cold brick seeped through my thin shirt, making me shiver.

"If the review passes," he continued, "he can use 'the Don betraying family interests' as grounds to force the elders to vote to freeze my financial and personnel authority."

"He knows?" I asked. "He knows everything?"

"Not certain." Luca's jaw tightened one degree. "But he's definitely sensed something. Marco was called in for private talks with him twice recently."

Damn.

If Enzo had gotten information from Marco—what he'd received should be the false version.

But Enzo wasn't stupid. False intelligence could fool ordinary people, but not necessarily a fox who'd survived seventy-plus years in the Mafia world.

He might not have seen through the specific content, but he'd smelled danger.

So he struck first—using the elder council to restrict Luca's power.

"How long does the review take?" I asked.

"Normal process, two to three weeks," he said. "But if Enzo pushes, it can be accelerated to one week."

One week.

Almost overlapping with the federal investigation timeline.

If Enzo froze Luca's authority before the federal investigation landed—we'd lose the Marino family's military support.

And without military support, the plan to cut Ferrante's transport lines was nothing but paper.

I closed my eyes.

Information churned in my mind like a scrambled chessboard—every piece moving, every move connected to the next.

Enzo was moving. Ferrante was being investigated. Dante was still hiding in Philadelphia. Federal investigation landing in two weeks. Elder council review possibly launching within one week.

The timelines were too tight.

Every line was counting down, and the endpoints didn't align.

I needed—

To make Enzo stop.

Even if only temporarily.

I opened my eyes.

"Have Marco send a message back," I said.

Luca looked at me.

"Tell Enzo—" my voice was very calm, "I'm negotiating with Ferrante. Preparing to trade the USB evidence for the return of the Caruso ports."

The room went quiet.

Outside the window came the buzz of Marcus's pneumatic tools and Linh's muffled singing.

Luca stared at me, speaking slowly.

"You want Enzo to think your target is only Ferrante."

"Yes."

"To think you have no intention of moving against him."

"Yes."

He released my wrist, thinking for a few seconds.

"If he buys it, he'll stop. At least temporarily, right?"

I nodded.

"What Enzo does best is letting others wear each other down while he picks up the pieces."

"If he believes I'm negotiating with Ferrante—maybe even heading toward conflict with Ferrante—he'd be happy to watch. He won't rush to freeze your authority, because that would actually spook me into alertness."

"He'll wait," I said. "Wait to watch Ferrante and me tear each other apart, then move in to harvest."

I turned to face Luca.

"And that's exactly what I need most—for him to stay still. Buy me more time."

Luca leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

His gaze held something almost unfamiliar.

Like watching a tree he'd once watered himself, discovering it had grown taller than him.

"When did you become like this?" he asked.

Voice very soft.

I tilted my head.

"Like what?"

He didn't answer.

Just looked at me, mouth curving in the shallowest arc—carrying pride, and also something wistful that I couldn't quite read.

"Nothing," he finally said, straightening. "I'll have Marco send it."

He walked to the door and pulled it open.

Sunlight flooded in, painting a golden edge along his shoulder.

"Elena."

"Mm."

"If your grandmother could see you now—"

He paused.

"She'd be very proud."

Then he walked out.

The door closed softly behind him.

Sunlight cut off, the room dimming again.

I stood in place, looking at that closed door.

Throat a little sour.

But I didn't linger long.

Deep breath. Push the door open. Walk back to the shop floor.

Marcus saw me emerge and immediately sidled over.

"Boss, that guy—"

"Work stuff," I said. "Don't worry."

He looked at me, wanting to say more, but ultimately just nodded.

I walked to the table and poured myself a cup of coffee.

Hand steady.

The bait had been cast.

Now—wait for Enzo to bite.