Page 40 of Mafia Kingdom

"Tell him I'll call him in the morning," I say, dismissing the matter.

Tony hesitates. "He seemed…unsettled."

That gives me pause. Lucas doesn't get unsettled. Angry, yes. Cold, always. But unsettled? That's new.

Before I can reconsider, my phone vibrates. Unknown number. I exchange a glance with Tony before answering cautiously.

"Walsh."

The voice that responds is distorted through some kind of modulator, turning human speech into something mechanical and alien. "Three hours."

I sit straighter, all my senses suddenly on high alert. "Who is this?"

"The Northside docks." The voice continues, ignoring my question. Each word is precisely measured, devoid of accent or emotion. "The shipment will be there."

My grip tightens on the phone. This shipment isn't due for another week, and only five people know the details. "How did you get this number?"

"Only a small window to secure it." The voice pauses, and for a moment, I think the call might be over. Then: "Tick tock, Marco Walsh."

The line goes dead.

Tony steps closer, tension radiating from him. "What was that about?"

I stare at the phone, ice settling in my veins. Not only does this anonymous caller know about a highly classified shipment, they know my private number—one I change weekly for security. And the "tick tock" was deliberate, taunting. Someone is playing with me, demonstrating their reach.

"Our weapons shipment is arriving tonight at the Northside docks," I say, already calculating options, timeframes, potential threats. "The one that wasn't due for another week."

"Jesus Christ," Tony breathes, face paling. "It's a setup."

"Almost certainly," I agree. "But we can't ignore it."

The shipment represents more than just money—it's power, leverage, survival. Without those weapons, we're vulnerable on multiple fronts. Every rival family, every ambitious upstart with a grudge would see it as weakness.

"What about tonight?" Tony asks, gesturing to my suit. "The senator—"

"The plan doesn't change," I decide. "I still need to have that conversation with O'Neill. The legislation is too important to ignore."

"You can't be in two places at once."

I pace the room, mind racing through scenarios. "I'll go to the event with Sasha as planned. Make the appearance, handle the senator, then we'll leave early. I can be at the docks by eleven."

"Let me handle the docks," Tony suggests. "You stay with her."

I shake my head. "No. I need to be there myself. This smells like a test—or a trap. Either way, I can't send someone else."

It's not just about the weapons, though they're valuable enough. It's about showing strength. Showing that despite Danny's death, despite the attempt on Baz, I'm still firmly in control. If I don't personally secure this shipment, it sends a message of weakness.

Tony knows better than to argue further. "I'll arrange the teams then. We'll need two squads."

"Three," I correct. "And send Lucas to the docks ahead of us. Tell him I'll meet him there at eleven."

Tony raises an eyebrow but nods. "This anonymous caller…you think it's someone inside?"

The question has been gnawing at me since the call ended. "Has to be. Only a handful of people knew about that shipment."

"Your father?"

I hesitate. "I don't know. Maybe." I run a hand through my hair, the pressure building behind my temples. "One problem at a time. First the senator, then the shipment."

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