Chapter 6 - THE SHADOW OF GIDEON PAYNE
The server room grew deathly quiet. The hum of the massive cooling fans sounded like a distant jet engine spooling up for takeoff.
Vince stared at the monitor, his hand slowly dropping away from his weapon, his face pale with shock. "Gideon... that old bastard. He's been running the board behind your back since the funeral."
"He didn't run it alone," Rafe said, his voice dropping into a register so cold it felt like physical pain. He pointed a finger at a subsidiary account number flashing on the lower corner of the video playback. "Look at the routing code for the payout. That money didn't go to Gideon's offshore accounts. It went into a dummy trust managed by the North End syndicate—Salvatore Rossi's primary holding group."
"Rossi," Vince growled, his fists clenching at his sides. "So the North End and Gideon orchestrated the succession from the inside."
"And then they tried to clean house by dropping an elevator on my head," Rafe added smoothly, standing up from the terminal. He pulled his Sig Sauer from his holster, checking the magazine with a sharp, crisp click. "They thought they were cutting off the head of the Castellane family. They didn't realize they were just waking up the wolf."
Before Vince could respond, the emergency comms panel on the wall chimed with a high-priority alert.
A panicked voice broke through the speaker: “Boss! Boss, you need to see the main lobby security feed right now! Someone just walked through the front doors!”
Rafe didn't waste a second. "Who?"
“It’s Mr. Payne. And he’s not alone. He’s brought three armed enforcers from the North End. They’ve locked down the ground floor elevators and they're demanding access to the subterranean vaults!”
A dark, humorless smile touched the corners of Rafe’s mouth.
"Tell the perimeter guards to stand down," Rafe commanded, his voice ringing with absolute, lethal clarity. "Let them walk right into the central atrium. Don't touch a single hair on their heads."
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"Boss, if we let them take the vault—"
"They aren't taking anything, Vince," Rafe said, locking his gaze on the elevator security monitor where Gideon Payne's silver-haired figure was currently stepping into the private lift, looking as calm and respectable as a church deacon. "They're just walking into a trap that was written thirty days ago."
