“Touch Her Again and You’re D*ad,” the Mafia Boss Told My Supervisor

The laser printer whirred, spitting out five warm pages of encrypted logistics manifests stamped with the blue digital seal of the Massachusetts Port Authority.

Leo picked up the pages, his scarred left thumb tracing the routing numbers across the header.

"The destination isn't Rotterdam," Leo observed, his jaw setting hard. "The container was reassigned at 6:45 PM to an unmarked feeder vessel registered in Limassol, Cyprus."

"Consigned to Vance Maritime Holdings," I added, gathering my coat and handbag from the back of the chair. "Marcus Vance’s private import entity. The manifest lists industrial titanium valves, but the gross tare weight on the weighbridge scale is four thousand pounds heavier than the declared bill of lading."

Leo looked down at me, his gray eyes reflecting a dangerous, calculating intensity.

"You found this three hours ago?"

"I found the discrepancy during the routine month-end inventory reconciliation," I answered, looking directly into his eyes. "When I attempted to log the discrepancy into the central audit server, Richard revoked my database permissions and locked the front entrance."

Leo reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a sleek satellite phone. He dialed a single speed-dial digit.

"Marco," Leo spoke into the receiver, his baritone slicing through the quiet room. "Mobilize the tactical detail at Pier 6. Intercept Container 884-Bravo at Bay 14 before it clears the inner gate. If the driver attempts to move the tractor, take the tires out."

He hung up without waiting for a reply, slipping the phone back into his coat.

"Come with me, Clara," Leo said, extending his hand toward me.

I hesitated, looking down at his open palm, then up at his face. "My sister, Leo. Oak Creek closes its visitor check-in at ten o'clock. If the night supervisor notices my absence—"

"Thomas has already dispatched two private security operatives to Oak Creek," Leo interrupted gently, his voice softening with rare, genuine warmth. "They are stationed at the entrance of Chloe's wing. Her medical accounts have been transferred to my private family office. No one touches your sister, Clara. Not Richard, not Marcus Vance, and not the state."