Chapter 8 - The Weight of a Soul
The sun was just beginning to bleed a bruised violet and gold horizon over the Atlantic Ocean when Julian walked out of the smoking ruins of the Moretti estate.
Marcus followed close behind, wiping a smear of soot from his tactical jacket. "The server farm in Queens is wiped clean, Boss," Marcus reported quietly as they reached the armored SUV idling on the gravel driveway. "Moretti’s financial empire is a smoking crater. Every asset, every account, every bribe—gone. The federal task force just raided their primary addresses ten minutes ago. Moretti won't be seeing daylight again until he's in a pine box."
Julian opened the rear door of the vehicle, sliding into the leather seat. He didn't look back at the burning mansion behind them. He pulled off his tactical coat, revealing a dust-stained shirt underneath, and rubbed the back of his neck with a weary, heavy sigh.
For two years, he had carried the crushing burden of a ghost. He had believed his own existence was a curse—that everything he touched, loved, or protected was destined to be destroyed by the violent world he inhabited.
As the SUV sped away from the Hamptons toward Manhattan, Julian pulled the small encrypted flash drive from his pocket, turning it over in his calloused palm.
Then he thought of a little girl in a teal dress with a lopsided ponytail, eating a dinner roll in a cavernous dining room, asking a monster if he was lonely.
"Marcus," Julian said, breaking the silence of the speeding car.
"Yeah, Boss?"
"Is Abigail Vance still at the Westchester estate?"
"We left a security detail at the gates, per your orders," Marcus nodded, glancing back through the rearview mirror. "She's packing her bags. She thought—given what happened—you'd want her and the girl out of the house by noon."
Julian stared out the tinted window as the Manhattan skyline came into view, piercing the morning mist like jagged teeth.
May you like
"Turn the car around," Julian commanded softly.
Marcus blinked, surprised, but didn't question it. He tapped the partition, and the driver smoothly swung the vehicle around in a wide, controlled arc, heading back north toward Westchester.
