Chapter 5 - Blood on the DocksTwo days after the gala, the psychological warfare began to break our enemies apart.
With Damian’s finances frozen and federal investigators swarming his casinos, the fragile alliances holding his syndicate together began to fracture. His top lieutenants, realizing that Damian was going down, started reaching out to Luca’s organization to cut independent deals.
We were sitting in the penthouse study reviewing intercepted communication transcripts when Mateo rushed through the double doors, looking unusually tense.
“Boss, we have a problem,” Mateo said, tossing a heavy tactical tablet onto the glass desk. “My informants at the Port of South Chicago just sent this. Your father panicked. He tried to flee the country on a private cargo freighter bound for South America.”
I stiffened, standing up from my chair. “My father?”
“Yes,” Mateo noddedgrimly. “But Damian found out about his escape plan. Damian’s enforcers intercepted him at Dock 14 thirty minutes ago. They’re holding him hostage in the shipping container yard, trying to force him to sign over whatever hidden assets he has left before they silence him permanently.”
I looked at Luca.
For all my anger, for all the betrayal and the years of emotional abuse, he was still my father.
“We have to go,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.
Luca didn't hesitate. He stood up, buttoned his suit jacket, and looked at Mateo. “Mobilize the full tactical unit. Tell the harbor police to lock down every exit around Dock 14. Nobody leaves that pier alive unless I say so.”
Within twenty minutes, a convoy of three black armored SUVs tore through the industrial district of South Chicago, sirens off, tires screeching against the wet asphalt as we headed toward the dark, sprawling expanse of the shipping docks.
When we arrived, the container yard was dead silent, illuminated only by the harsh yellow glare of overhead crane lights and the steady pouring rain.
Mateo’s men fanned out silently between towering stacks of colored shipping crates, securing the perimeter. Luca and I moved swiftly behind them, weapons drawn and ready.
We found them near Berth 7.
My father was tied securely to a rusted steel chair, his face bruised, his expensive suit soaked in rain and mud, crying pathetically as Damian Vale stood over him with a heavy iron pipe in his hand. Three of Damian’s armed guards stood nearby, keeping watch.
“I gave you everything!” Damian screamed at my father, striking the concrete floor inches from my father’s feet with the pipe. “Seventeen million dollars in debt, and you hand me a bankrupt foundation and a rebellious little brat who ruins my entire empire in forty-eight hours!”
“I didn't know! I swear I didn't know she had the files!” my father sobbed, shaking uncontrollably.
“You should have kept your daughter on a shorter leash,” Damian snarled, raising the pipe high above his head. “Since she wants to play games, we’ll start by breaking your fingers one by one until she comes crawling back to me.”
“Drop the pipe, Damian,” a cold, lethal voice echoed across the empty loading bay.
Damian froze.
May you like
He slowly lowered the pipe and spun around.
Luca Moretti stepped out from the shadow of a towering shipping container, with me standing right beside him, holding a 9mm automatic pistol with a steady, unblinking grip.
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