Chapter 12 - The City of Lies
The heavy rain battered the sleek black windows of the armored Mercedes as Lorenzo aggressively navigated the winding, ancient streets of Paris.
He had completely bypassed the standard federal checkpoints, utilizing a massive, highly illegal network of underground European smugglers.
His elite intelligence broker had successfully traced the exact location of the photograph to a massive, incredibly luxurious penthouse overlooking the Seine River.
Lorenzo checked the heavy, loaded magazine of his tactical pistol for the fourth time, his mind completely consumed by a dark, murderous focus.
He stepped aggressively out of the heavy vehicle, ignoring the freezing rain as he approached the highly fortified residential building.
The massive glass lobby was completely guarded by four heavily armed, highly trained French mercenaries wearing expensive tailored suits.
Lorenzo did not hesitate for a single, agonizing second.
He moved completely like a phantom, aggressively neutralizing the first two guards with incredibly brutal, silent precision before they could even draw their weapons.
The remaining mercenaries completely panicked, but Lorenzo violently disarmed them, leaving them unconscious on the cold marble floor.
He forcefully commandeered the private elevator, overriding the security system to aggressively ascend to the top floor.
The heavy metal doors slid silently open, revealing an incredibly opulent, brightly lit penthouse filled with priceless art and expensive furniture.
Standing completely still by the massive floor-to-ceiling window, holding a crystal glass of red wine, was Sophia.
She looked entirely unchanged, incredibly beautiful, and completely devoid of any human empathy.
She slowly turned around, a deeply cold, absolutely arrogant smile spreading perfectly across her elegant face.
She casually took a sip of her expensive wine, completely unsurprised by his highly violent, aggressive intrusion.
Lorenzo raised his heavy weapon, aiming the cold steel barrel directly at the center of her chest.
He fiercely demanded to know why she had completely abandoned her infant son and violently faked her own horrific death.
Sophia laughed a deeply cruel, absolutely sickening laugh that echoed through the massive penthouse.
She coldly explained that she never wanted to be a subservient mafia wife raising a pathetic, crying child.
She had secretly built a massive, highly illegal international syndicate of her own, completely manipulating Uncle Carlo from the dark shadows.
Lorenzo felt a massive, deeply sickening wave of pure disgust completely wash over him.
He aggressively demanded to know the exact identity of the dark-haired toddler in the terrifying photograph.
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Sophia smiled wickedly, slowly gesturing toward a heavy oak door on the far side of the massive living room.
She proudly declared that the toddler was her true masterpiece, the absolute, rightful heir to the massive global empire she was actively building.
