Chapter One Hundred And Nine

Chapter 109

“We have to find Vincent,” Ava suggested as the group sat down in Marcus’s study. Silence engulfed them and they all shared glances, the ultimate question lurking amongst them.

Jemima breathed out, “how?” Asking the question no one dared to ask.
Jay stopped beside her, holding her hand and drawing a small circle against the back of her hand.

“I did some research and I figured there’s a ring just around the corner, i knew Vincent looked familiar so when he popped up at the house yesterday I just had to dig up,” Marcus blurted out, causing the entire room to stare at him.

“What kind of ring?” Ava queried, her brows furrowing with intrigue as she stared at her brother. The stress lines on her face were beginning to look more prominent.

Jemima noted this and her expression towards her sister. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how she must be feeling in all of this especially with her husband away and the kids becoming a handful.

Marcus sighed deeply, placing his palm against his head as he stared at the ceiling.

“It’s a smuggling ring.”

“What was he smuggling?” Jay finally asked for the first time since that evening, his voice reverberating across the room as everyone stared at Marcus.

“Children,” Marcus said in a hushed tone, afraid that if he blurted it out too loud, the walls around him might crumble.

“Jesus Fucking Christ Marcus!” Ava berated, her chest heaving with worry and confusion. “Children? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried to but I got threatened that if I did, they were going to come for my family. It was a hard choice, I couldn’t let anything happen to you both,” Marcus tried to explain but Ava was not having it. Jemima’s knees gave way, causing her to sink to the floor but Jay was just in time to catch her.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything but it was either say something and get killed or say nothing to save you both, I did what I thought was best,” Marcus defended, his gaze shifting from Jemima to Ava, hoping they’d understand.

“Well, that’s in the past now, where is this ring and do you think we can find Vincent there?” Jemima asked, trying to switch the topic.

“Yes, Vincent is still there. We’d have to plan our attack and get him to us,” Marcus answered, looking at Jemima gratefully.

“Alright let’s get to work. It’s in the past and millions of lives depend on us right now. We can’t afford to waste any more time because we’re not involving Alan anymore,” Jay said, prompting everyone into action.

Four grueling hours of battle later, Vincent sat across from them— signifying that they had not only captured him but also shut down the ring for good.

The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the faint ticking of a wall clock. Jemima sat cross-legged on the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Across from her, Vincent sat tied to a chair, his head slumped forward. His breathing was labored, the bruises from the fight already blooming across his face.

Jay stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, his eyes locked on Vincent like a predator watching its prey. Marcus leaned against the wall, his gun resting loosely in his hand, but his posture screamed readiness.

"Wake him up," Jay said coldly.

Marcus stepped forward, grabbing a bottle of water from the table. He uncapped it and poured it over Vincent's head in one swift motion. Vincent jolted awake, coughing and sputtering as the cold water hit him.

"You're going to answer our questions," Jay said, his voice low and dangerous. "Or this gets a lot worse for you."

Vincent lifted his head slowly, a smirk curling his bloodied lips. "You think you scare me, Jay? You don't know what you're up against."

Jay's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. Instead, he crouched in front of Vincent, his gaze level with the other man's. "You're right. I don't know everything. But you're going to change that. Starting now."

Vincent chuckled, though it sounded more like a wheeze. "Jon's already ten steps ahead of you. You'll never catch him."

"Let me rephrase," Jay said, his voice icy. "You're going to tell us everything, or I'll make sure you regret every second of your miserable existence."

Jemima shifted uncomfortably, her stomach churning at the raw intensity in Jay's voice. She wanted answers as much as he did, but this—this was a side of him she hadn't seen in a long time. This side reminded her of just how much he was still the ruthless mafia boss that ruled Rome for decades.

Marcus stepped closer, his presence looming. "Where's the key?"

Vincent laughed, though it was strained. "You think I'm just going to hand that over?"

Jay didn't blink. "You don't have to. We'll find it. But if you cooperate, you might get out of this alive."

For a moment, Vincent's smirk faltered. Then, he spat at Jay's feet. "Do your worst."

Without warning, Jay's fist shot out, connecting with Vincent's jaw. The chair tipped back slightly before slamming down again. Jemima didn’t flinch but her breath caught in her throat.

"That's enough!" she said, her voice sharper than she intended.

Jay turned to her, his expression hard. "He's not going to talk unless we make him."

"And what if he doesn't talk at all?" Jemima shot back. "Beating him senseless won't get us anywhere."

The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Marcus stepped between them, his voice calm but firm. "She's right. Let's try another approach."

Jay exhaled sharply, stepping back. "Fine. You try."

Jemima hesitated, unsure of what to do. Then, she walked over to Vincent, her green eyes locking onto his. She crouched down, close enough to see the faint flicker of fear behind his defiance.

"You're scared," she said softly.

Vincent's smirk returned. "Of you? Not a chance."

"Not of me," Jemima continued. "But of Jon. He's ruthless, isn't he? He doesn't care about loyalty or sacrifice. If you fail him, you're just another loose end to tie up."

For a split second, something flickered in Vincent's expression—hesitation, doubt.

"You think Jon's going to protect you?" Jemima pressed. "He'll kill you the moment you stop being useful. But if you help us, we can protect you."

Vincent scoffed. "You're all talk."

"Am I?" Jemima stood, crossing her arms. "You saw what we did tonight. You know what we're capable of. If we're willing to go after Jon, what makes you think we can't take you down too?"

The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. Vincent's smirk faded, replaced by a grim line.

"I don't know where Jon is," he admitted finally.

Jay took a step forward. "But you know something."

Vincent hesitated, then nodded. "He's planning something big. The key isn't just for leverage—it's part of a larger plan. He's targeting the global grid."

"The global grid?" Marcus repeated, his brow furrowing.

Vincent nodded. "If he takes control of it, he can shut down entire countries. Cities will fall into chaos. Governments will be at his mercy."

"And the warehouse?" Jay pressed.

"It's just a decoy," Vincent said. "Jon's real base is underground, somewhere off the grid. He's been planning this for years."

"Where?" Marcus demanded.

Vincent shook his head. "I don't know. But I know someone who might."

"Who?" Jay asked, his tone sharp.

"Vanessa," Vincent said. "She's been working with him."

The words hit Jemima like a punch to the gut.

"That's impossible," Marcus said, his voice laced with disbelief. "Vanessa would never—"

"She's been feeding him information for months," Vincent interrupted. "Why do you think he's always one step ahead? She's been playing both sides."

The room fell into stunned silence. Jemima's mind raced, trying to process the betrayal. Vanessa had been like family, her best friend. Could it be true?

Jay's expression darkened. "We'll deal with Vanessa later. Right now, we need to focus on Jon."

"What about him?" Jemima asked, nodding toward Vincent.

Jay glanced at Marcus, who nodded.

"We'll keep him locked up for now," Marcus said. "He's more valuable alive."

As they secured Vincent in a makeshift cell in the basement, Jemima couldn't shake the unease settling in her chest. If Vanessa was working with Jon, their entire operation could be compromised.

Back upstairs, Jay leaned against the counter, his expression troubled. Jemima paced the room, her unease seeping through.

"You okay?" Jay asked, his voice soft.

She looked at her, his gaze heavy with guilt. "I should have seen it. Vanessa's my best—I should've known especially after she lured me out from the hospital.”

"It is not your fault," Jay said firmly. "If she's betrayed us, that's on her, not you."

Jay nodded, but his jaw remained tight.

Marcus entered the room, his phone in hand. "Dimitri's on his way. He is bringing backup."

Jemima frowned. "Do you think we can trust him?"

Marcus hesitated. "I do not know. But right now, we don't have a choice besides he’s Jay's cousin. Muchacho knows you don’t screw over your own family.”

The night dragged on, the weight of their discoveries pressing down on them. Jemima sat by the window, staring out at the darkness. The city felt quieter than usual, as if it, too, was holding its breath.

Jay joined her, his presence grounding. "We'll get through this," he said softly.

She nodded, though she wasn't sure she believed him.

As dawn approached, the sound of tires on gravel broke the silence. Dimitri stepped out of the car, his expression unreadable.

"We have a problem," he said, his voice grave.

"What now?" Marcus asked, his tone weary.

Dimitri glanced around, his gaze lingering on each of them. "Jon's already making his move. He's targeting the city's power grid. If we don't stop him, New York will go dark by tonight."

The weight of his words settled over them like a storm cloud.

Jemima took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Then we stop him. Whatever it takes."