Chapter 6 - The Council of Wolves
At ten o'clock the following morning, four armored limousines pulled into the stone driveway of the Moretti estate.
Seraphina stood behind the sheer curtains of the second-floor gallery, watching as an elderly man with silver hair and a sharp, cruel face stepped out of the lead vehicle.
Marco Vance.
He wore a tailored Italian coat and walked with a silver-topped cane, surrounded by eight armed bodyguards whose cold, scanning eyes swept every window of the estate.
Beside her, Elias appeared softly, stepping into the shadows of the curtain.
"He looks like an old man," Seraphina whispered, her heart beating against her ribs.
"He is a viper," Elias corrected quietly. "He killed his own brother to gain his seat on our board. Do not underestimate him."
"Is Leo safe?"
"He is with Stefan in our safe room beneath the wine cellar," Elias assured her, his hand briefly touching her lower back—a gesture of protection that had become instinctual over the past twelve hours. "Stay in this wing until the council meeting ends."
Elias turned and walked down the grand marble staircase to receive his guests.
Seraphina watched from above as Elias greeted Marco in the grand foyer. The two men embraced fake-warmly, exchanging words of greeting that sounded more like veiled threats than greetings between partners.
"Elias, my boy," Marco’s voice echoed up the high marble ceiling. "You look tired. Running an empire alone is exhausting work."
"I manage, Marco," Elias replied smoothly, gesturing toward his private conference room. "Let us discuss the Baltic routes before the food gets cold."
The council doors closed, shutting out the rest of the world.
Seraphina walked quietly back toward Elias’s suite, but as she passed the eastern corridor, she heard the low murmur of voices coming from the security room.
She paused, stepping behind an ornate marble pillar.
One of Marco’s bodyguards was standing near the door, speaking rapidly into a satellite phone in hushed Italian.
"...the boy's nanny," the bodyguard whispered into the phone. "She matches the description from the Kingston file. Tell the team in Marseille to move on her mother’s house immediately."
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Seraphina gasped, her blood running completely cold.
They already knew.
