His parents were thrown in prison on false charges. Two months later, they were gone. Officially, it was called suicide, but Zion never believed it. Even as a child, he knew the truth. They had been silenced.
He was left alone.
No relatives came. No one wanted the son of criminals. He grew up surviving on scraps, sleeping in shelters, fighting hunger with pride. He didn't inherit their genius in code, but he did inherit their fire: the ability to adapt, to lead, to outthink.
By the time he was fifteen, he had learned to negotiate, to manipulate deals, and to read people better than any textbook could teach. When the chance came to make money, real money, he took it.
He joined the Mafia.
