Chapter 3 - The Broken Vow
Clara stared at the lit screen, choking back a wail of terror. Alexander lifted the phone with two fingers. Attached to the message was a video clip: Javier sitting in the VIP booth of his club, swirling amber whiskey, while two men held a battered gold necklace—a Vance family heirloom torn from Clara's throat—over an open flame.
""He thinks he possesses leverage,"" Alexander said quietly, handing the device to Donald. ""Trace that feed. Pinpoint everyone in that room.""
""Alexander, please,"" Eleanor cried, rising and gripping his arm with frantic force. ""Don't go alone. The Robas family is linked to the harbor cartels. They aren't just greedy socialites; they’re animals with nothing left to lose.""
""That is their greatest miscalculation, Eleanor,"" Alexander replied, kissing her forehead with tender brutality. ""They assumed I was merely a businessman who plays by civilized rules. They forgot what I built before this penthouse was constructed.""
He turned to his daughter. ""Clara. When you entered that church this morning, you carried my name. When you escaped, you preserved my blood. From this moment on, no one named Robas will walk through this city without looking over their shoulder.""
Leaving the penthouse under heavy guard, Alexander stepped into the private elevator alongside Donald and four plainclothes operatives. As the elevator plummeted eighty floors in silence, Alexander slipped a titanium signet ring onto his right hand.
""Donald,"" he murmured as the descent slowed. ""Call our contact at the port authority. I want cargo ship Neptune Seven impounded before it reaches international waters.""
""Sir, Neptune Seven contains ninety percent of Madeline Robas's offshore assets,"" Donald cautioned. ""Seizing it will trigger an open war.""
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Alexander's gaze hardened into flint. ""I do not wage wars, Donald. I perform executions.""
The elevator doors parted into the underground garage, where three black sedans waited with engines purring in the dark.
