The Veiled Syndicate Book 1: Shattered Loyalties

Chapter 6: Shadows in the Bloodline

Chapter 6: Shadows in the Bloodline

The weight of the night pressed heavily on me as I unlocked my door and stepped inside. The quiet should have been comforting, but the faint glow of the living room lamp caught my eye, and my heart skipped a beat. Someone was here.

The figure sat in the shadows, relaxed and waiting. When the lamp flicked on, the familiar silhouette made me freeze. His presence was unmistakable.

"Hello, Father," I said, my voice steady, though my heart raced.

"Daughter," he replied, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

I closed the door behind me, trying to compose myself. "What do I owe the pleasure of this unannounced visit?" I raised an eyebrow, keeping my tone calm. My father showing up out of nowhere never boded well.

"Now, that's not how you greet your old man after two years, is it? You know why I'm here. Besides, I've got business in town, and I thought I'd check in on you." His smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was always something behind his visits—more than just family bonding.

My father, Richard Paxwood, had been in this world long before I entered it. He operated his own syndicate, one he thought was much smaller than mine—something I kept from him on purpose. He believed I was still running local jobs, not aware of the vast network I'd built, and I was happy to let him think that. It saved me from his constant interference.

"I know," he said, breaking my thoughts.

I narrowed my eyes. "Know what?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I saw Marcus at the airport. Had my people dig into him. Imagine my surprise when I found out he was at a club you own."

My stomach dropped, but I kept my expression blank. He didn't miss a thing, it seemed. And now, I had to explain, or he'd push his way in and make things even messier.

"Dad—"

"I'm going to stop you right there." His voice was sharp, cutting through my words like a knife. "No excuses. I know what you've been up to, Eliza. I've known for a while. Don't think you can hide shit from me. I introduced you to this world, or did you forget?"

His anger was palpable, simmering just beneath the surface. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Can you please sit down so I can explain?"

He gave me a long, stern look before finally sinking back into the couch. "Go ahead."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "I thought I had everything under control. But there were loose ends from two years ago. Marcus is part of that, and now, I have to clean up the mess I thought I'd already fixed."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't interrupt. I continued, "The situation is delicate, and bringing in outside help could make it worse. I need to handle this myself."

"Let me call my people," he said, pulling out his phone. "We'll fix this before it gets any worse."

"It already has," I muttered. "And who exactly are you going to call? Your operation isn't exactly suited for this kind of thing."

His smirk returned, but this time, it was laced with amusement. "You think you know everything about me, don't you? You think your organization is bigger, more important. Let me tell you something, Eliza—my network runs deeper than you think."

I raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was bluffing or if I'd truly underestimated him.

"You remember the merger between the Italians and Greeks a few months back?" he asked.

"Yeah, the one that seemed to come out of nowhere. What about it?"

"That was me. They didn't just merge; they became part of my operation," he said, pride evident in his voice.

I blinked, taken aback. I hadn't expected that. It seemed there was still a lot I didn't know about my father. He was more dangerous than I'd given him credit for.

He made a few calls, his voice dropping to a hushed murmur as he moved away from me. I strained to catch the words, but all I could make out were snippets—names, locations, codes that were meaningless to anyone not in the know. I watched him pace the room, his movements deliberate, every step calculated like he was playing a game of chess I wasn't even aware of. My stomach churned with unease. Whoever he was contacting was powerful enough to make my father speak in whispers, and that only made me more anxious.

I could see his expression shift as the call dragged on. His jaw tightened, and I caught the slight flare of his nostrils—things weren't going smoothly. He wasn't used to things not going his way. The tension in the air thickened with every passing second. I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe, trying to brace myself for whatever was coming.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally ended the last call, slipping the phone back into his pocket with a sigh. His face had relaxed slightly, but I could tell he wasn't entirely satisfied.

"It wasn't easy," he said, walking back toward me. His tone was clipped, the slight edge to his voice betraying his frustration. "But I've got the best man for the job. You'll be in good hands."

I stared at him, searching his face for more details. "Who?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn't one of amusement—it was the kind of smirk that held secrets, one that said he knew something I didn't. "Marcus," he said simply, as though the name alone answered everything.

My blood ran cold. Of course, it had to be Marcus. The one person I was trying to keep at arm's length, the one person whose very presence stirred up memories and emotions I'd been burying for years. My father's choice wasn't a coincidence—it never was. He had a knack for pushing my buttons, for testing the limits of my control, and he knew damn well that Marcus was the last person I wanted involved in this mess.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Not him."

"You don't get a say in this," my father replied, his voice firm. "This isn't about what you want. It's about keeping you alive, and right now, Marcus is the only one I trust with that. He's got connections, resources that neither of us have access to. He can keep you safe."

I clenched my fists, trying to control the rising anger. "I don't trust him."

"And I don't trust anyone else to protect you the way he can," my father snapped back. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. "This isn't a negotiation, Eliza. You're in deeper than you think, and the people coming for you...they don't play by the rules. Marcus knows their game."

I wanted to argue, to fight him on this, but deep down, I knew he wasn't wrong. The threats were real, and I was walking on thin ice. But that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Fine," I muttered, turning away from him. "But I'm not happy about this."

"You don't have to be," he said quietly, but I could hear the slight relief in his tone. He'd won this round, and we both knew it.

I started walking toward my bedroom, every step heavy with exhaustion and frustration. "We're done here," I said, my voice trailing behind me. "I'm too tired for this tonight."

I heard my father sigh as he moved toward the door. There was a quiet click as he unlocked it and stepped outside, but not before saying one last thing, his voice softer than before, almost gentle. "Get some rest, Eliza. You'll need it."

And then, he was gone.

I stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to process everything that had just happened. My father's involvement. Marcus coming back into my life. The storm that was brewing just beyond the horizon, threatening to tear everything apart.

I didn't want to admit it, but I knew my father was right about one thing. The people who were after me weren't the type you could negotiate with. They'd come for blood, and unless I was ready, they'd get it.