Upon hearing her father's query, Gianna exchanged a knowing smile with John seated next to her. Her tone was relaxed as she responded, "Father, there's no need for concern. Please forgive me for not disclosing the reasons, but I can assure you that this attack was strictly limited to Santino's club and not directly targeting our family. In fact, we were merely collateral damage."
Old Don Antonio realized from this firm response that his daughter was likely privy to the whole story. He suspected that this involved the individual mentioned by the butler, possibly John's friend Richard. He wondered how John's friend had become involved with the 'Elders' but decided that the specifics could wait. The key point was Gianna's confidence that their family was not involved.
Meanwhile, Santino, looking defeated, lifted his head and asked, "What? You're saying the 'Elders' acted solely against me? Why? I haven't wronged them… Could it be…?"
Santino recalled the nature of his club, horrified by the dreadful conclusion forming in his mind.
"Yes, exactly as you suspect," Gianna confirmed. "You allowed the Albanians to kidnap those solo traveling foreign girls in Paris, and this time, you finally crossed the line.
Indeed, the attack on your club wasn't because you kidnapped the wrong person. Honestly, you should be thankful you weren't there because I can assure you, you wouldn't have survived. Do you think the 'Elders' care about the Don Antonio family?"
Gianna's words left Santino trembling, her tone dripping with disdain.
"Gianna, are you sure about your information? Understand, this isn't a trivial matter. If the 'Elders' truly intend to intervene directly in our family affairs, the consequences could be severe," Old Don Antonio said, his tone heavy with the responsibility of the family's fate.
"Father, please trust me, this incident was purely accidental. Our sources are absolutely reliable," Gianna reassured her father.
"Alright, if that's the case, I'll be at ease. As for the issues between you and Santino, you two should discuss and resolve them yourselves. Remember, you share the same blood; you are family. Unity is the best approach. I'm tired now and will go rest," Old Don Antonio concluded, standing up from the sofa and leaving the room, reassured that their family wouldn't be dragged into this strange affair.
After their father left, Gianna felt the pressure lift and turned her sharp gaze on Santino like a predator eyeing its prey. "My dear brother, isn't it time you handed over John's blood oath sigil?"
"Do you think I carry that thing around with me all the time?"
Having regained a bit of composure, Santino wasn't ready to give up just yet, his stubborn side kicking in, hoping for a potential change in the situation.
"So, you think holding onto that sigil will change your fate? Santino, delaying and evading are pointless. Let me teach you one more thing today: in the face of absolute power, all schemes are as insubstantial as clouds.
Let me remind you one last time, if you do not hand over John's blood oath sigil today, I will not hesitate to wage war on your forces, regardless of how disastrous the outcome might be. Don't doubt my resolve!!!" Gianna declared, her resolve fueled by her true love for John, ready to turn against her own brother if necessary.
"You... Alright, the sigil is in my room. I'll get it for you…" Santino finally capitulated, lacking the courage to confront Gianna directly, knowing he stood no chance against her, and fearful of her ruthless suppression.
While Santino was cornered by his sister, across the ocean in New York, Castle was entering a gory crime scene behind Beckett at a place called the Dorsett Brothers' Meat Shop, his spirits unusually high.
"Mr. Castle, although I don't know why you're in such high spirits, you do realize we are at a homicide scene, right? Don't you think your mood is a bit out of place here?" Beckett rolled her eyes at Castle, who was gleefully anticipating working on another big case with her.
Indeed, Beckett had been feeling uneasy about Castle ever since he reappeared at the precinct that morning. There was something subtly eerie about him, an unnerving change she sensed but couldn't quite place.
This discomfort was accurate; Castle had changed after personally taking a life in France, a shift in his demeanor that was subtle yet profound.
Noticing Beckett's displeasure at his excitement over the new case, Castle quickly adjusted his expression: "Okay, you're the detective, I'll follow your lead."
Beckett, putting on her gloves, stepped inside the crime scene, and asked the forensic examiner, Lanie, "What's the situation?"
The stylish
African-American examiner, Lanie, looked up not at her good friend Beckett, but at Castle, teasing, "Hey there, writer. Heard you went to France. Shame you didn't bring us back any souvenirs!"
Castle responded with a grin, "Actually, I did bring gifts, but they're still on a cargo ship crossing the Atlantic!"
Lanie laughed before turning serious again, "The victim is a woman. The incisions on her body were made by someone with high surgical precision. Look at her neck, and her heart was removed with a standard ceramic scalpel using meticulous dissection techniques while she was still alive!!!"
Beckett frowned and leaned in to examine the victim more closely, while Castle surveyed the scene, feeling an odd sense of familiarity but unable to place it immediately.
"Castle, don't you have any of your crazy theories?" Beckett, after observing the grisly scene for a while, was surprised by Castle's unusual silence; he usually loved to speculate wildly at crime scenes.
"Damn, now I know why this place feels familiar. Isn't this like the case Dr. Henry Morgan handled, mimicking the 1888 London Jack the Ripper murders? Wait, does this mean the immortal Dr. Henry Morgan is about to make an appearance?"
Castle finally understood his uneasy feeling; he had seen a similar case in his past life in the TV show "Forever."
Thinking of the genteel, undying Englishman, Castle was thrilled at the prospect.
However, those weren't the main concerns now; another opportunity had arisen for Castle to show off his grandfather's prophetic skills in front of Beckett, Lanie, and Esposito.
"Beckett, no need to look further. This is a clear case of mimicry. The killer is emulating Jack the Ripper, the infamous serial killer from London in 1888…"
"What?" Beckett and Lanie exclaimed in unison, shocked by the revelation.
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