Chapter 57 Old connections

Chapter 57 Old connections
"I snagged a burner phone from my dad, thought it'd come in handy," he placed the phone in my hand.

The plastic burner phone felt alien in my hand, but it was the only lifeline we had.

The office was deathly quiet. Estava watched me from her perch on a crate, her eyes bright black beads. Julian and Aleera huddled together, radiating nervous energy, terrified of what I was about to set in motion.

Vesper sat close, his knee brushing mine. He didn't offer false comfort. He just offered his presence—a solid, unshakeable weight against the tide of my old life threatening to pull me under.

"You know the number," he asked.

I did. I had memorized it years ago when I'd been idle, calling him with multiple burner lines to get back at him for being a jerk, along with the escape routes from our old house and the code to my father’s wall safe. The survival skills of a mafia daughter never truly leave you. I just pray he still uses the line.

My thumb hovered over the keypad. I took a breath, trying to find that cold, hard center Estava had forced me to build earlier today. I couldn't be Martha's grieving foster child right now. I couldn't be the terrified victim of an ancient sorceress.

I had to be my dad's daughter.

I dialed.

It rang three times. I expected voicemail. Enzo never answered unknown numbers.

Then, a click.

"Who is this?" His voice was impatient, arrogant, accompanied by the background noise of a busy street. He was probably leaving some high-end club, completely untouched by the havoc the news channels were screaming about.

"Hello, brother."

Silence stretched on the line. The background noise faded as he likely pressed the phone closer to his ear.

"Sylvania?" His voice dropped, losing the arrogance, replaced by cautious disbelief. "You have some nerve calling me. Dad has guys tearing apart the tri-state area for you. He's offering fifty grand just for a lead."

"Is that all?" I kept my voice flat, devoid of the tremor I felt in my gut. "He must be losing his touch. I would have thought killing Martha would bump up my market value."

Enzo let out a short, harsh laugh. "Martha was collateral damage. You know how he gets when his toys break. You broke big, sis. National news big. The monster on the fifty-yard line."

"Vesper isn't the monster you should be worried about, Enzo."

"Is that right? Because from where I'm sitting, he looks like a rabid dog that needs putting down. Tell me where you are, and maybe I can convince Dad to make it quick for him. For old times' sake."

"I'm not calling to surrender," I said, letting a touch of the violet energy’s cold confidence seep into my tone. "I'm calling to make a deal."

"You have nothing to trade. You’re fugitives with zero assets."

"I have the one thing you’ve wanted since you were sixteen years old," I said quietly. "I could help you get Dad’s throne."

The line went dead silent.

I knew exactly what he was doing. I could see him stopping on the street, looking over his shoulder, checking for Seratti’s spies even though they were on a secure burner. Ambition was Enzo’s drug, and I just offered him pure heroin.

"You're talking crazy," he said finally, but the dismissal was weak.

"Am I? Look at the board, Enzo. He's losing control. The supernatural world is bleeding into the open. He's sloppy. Killing Martha was a mistake born of panic."

I leaned forward, gripping the phone tight.

"He's weak. And the weak get eaten. You taught me that."

"And what are you proposing, little sister?" His voice was a low murmur now, greedy and calculating.

"We're going to take him out. Tonight. We clear the board. You step in tomorrow morning as the grieving son who takes over the empire to restore order. The transition will be seamless."

Since him killing his father would be taken as treason if he tried it, why not we help him out.

"And what’s your price for handing me the kingdom?"

"Sylvia."

Enzo paused. "He has her locked down tight, Syl. Penthouse security is tripled. Not even I can just walk her out."

"I didn't ask you to walk her out. I asked for the schematics. Security shift rotation. The access code to the private elevator. And the exact location of where he’s keeping her."

"If I give you that, and you fail, he'll know it was me. He'll skin me alive."

"Then don't bet on us failing," Vesper said, leaning close to the phone so his voice carried clearly. "Bet on the Alpha who has nothing left to lose."

Enzo recognized the voice. I heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Listen to me, Enzo," I said, hardening my voice. "We're racing against time with an old sorceress. She’s here. And she doesn't care about dad's little criminal empire. She will burn this city down to get what she wants. Dad is getting in her way. If you side with him, you burn too. Side with us, and you get to rule the ashes."

It was the only language he understood. Power.

Seconds ticked by. The silence was agonizing. I could feel Elara’s eyes on me, assessing my performance.

Finally, Enzo sighed. It was the sound of a gambler pushing all his chips into the center of the table.

"The penthouse has a private server. The schematics are offline, hard copies only in his office safe. But I have the current security protocols on my tablet. And the elevator passcodes rotate every twelve hours. The next rotation is at 8 PM tonight."

"Where is Sylvia?" I demanded.

"The panic room. Behind the master bedroom suite. It's reinforced steel, biometrics only. Dad's thumbprint and iris scan."

My stomach dropped. Biometrics. We couldn't hack that.

"We'll need Seratti," Vesper murmured next to me, already problem-solving.

"Send the protocols to this number," I told Enzo. "Encrypted. Now."

"If you mess this up, Sylvania," Enzo’s voice was tight with fear, "don't bother running. I'll kill you myself just to prove loyalty to him."

"Goodbye, Enzo."

I ended the call and immediately popped the battery out of the phone, my hands shaking uncontrollably now that it was over.

I dropped the pieces onto the dirty floor as if they were radioactive. I felt sick. I had just contracted a hit on my own father with my brother.

Vesper took my good hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. He didn't offer empty platitudes about it being necessary. He just held on.

"He's sending the data," I whispered. "But the panic room... it's biometrics. We need Seratti alive to open it."

"Then the plan changes," Vesper said coldly. "We don't go in to kill him. We go in to grab him."

He looked at Julian, then at Estava. His green eyes were hard as flint, the bruises on his face only making him look more dangerous.

"We hit them tonight. Before the shift rotation changes. We’re going into the lion’s den, and we’re dragging the lion out by his mane."