He should be here now.
Vincent felt his blood run cold.
That voice belonged to his nephew, Marcus.
The boy that Vincent had raised after his brother’s death.
The young man he had groomed to inherit part of his empire.
The family member to whom he had entrusted his life.
Elena’s eyes reflected the same shock that Vincent had felt.
She had also recognized the voice.
But his expression shifted from surprise to something else.
Awareness.
As if this betrayal was nothing new to her.
Another voice joined Marcus’s in the room.
“He may have changed his mind.”
The old man becomes paranoid with age.
“No,” replied Marcus in a dry, authoritative tone, just as Vincent had taught him.
“He’s coming.”
Tony confirmed that he had left the warehouse an hour ago.
Vincent never deviates from his routine.
