THE BILLIONAIRE MAFIA BOSS PLOTTED TO STEAL HIS PREGNANT WIFE’S COMPANY AND CHILD—SO SHE WIPED HIS ENTIRE EMPIRE AND VANISHED INTO THE NIGHT

Despite Dominic's arrest, the nagging question of who was orchestrating the outside communications remained unresolved.

To get definitive answers, Caroline utilized her considerable corporate leverage and legal standing as the primary victim of federal racketeering to request a confidential, high-security visitation clearance at the federal penitentiary in Florence, Colorado.

Traveling via a private charter flight, she arrived at the ultra-maximum-security facility under heavy guard.

The visiting room was a bleak, sterile chamber separated by reinforced, multi-layered bulletproof glass and heavy steel mesh.

When the heavy metal door clicked open, Adrian Mercer was guided in by two armed correctional officers, looking older and slightly diminished, though his dark eyes still carried a familiar, calculating chill.

He sat down slowly, picking up the heavy black telephone receiver, and Caroline picked up her own, sitting erect and immaculate in a sharp charcoal suit.

"You didn't come all the way to Colorado to admire the prison architecture, Caroline," Adrian spoke first, his voice gravelly and low through the audio speaker.

"And prison looks devastatingly permanent on you, Adrian," Caroline replied smoothly, her tone completely devoid of emotion.

"I came to deliver a message in person: tell your remaining ghost network to stop sending cheap threats to my son's school, because the next time a shadow lingers near Julian, I will personally ensure that every single privilege you still enjoy in this concrete box is permanently revoked."

Adrian’s jaw tightened, a flash of genuine fury crossing his features before he masked it with a grim smile.

"You think you won, Caroline. But the underworld never truly dies; it just waits."

Caroline stood up gracefully, adjusting the lapel of her jacket.