Chapter 4 - The King Returns to the StreetsAt 1:15 AM, the neon lights of a secondary gambling den in South Chicago flickered against the wet asphalt of 47th Street.
Inside the dimly lit back room of The Red Velvet Lounge, Joey "The Hammer" Vance sat at a green felt table, counting stacks of protection money alongside four armed enforcers.
BOOM!
The reinforced steel back door was blown inward with explosive force, shower shards of wood and iron across the room.
Before the four enforcers could reach their sidearms, eight of my tactical operators—wearing dark armor and carrying suppressed weapons—flooded the room, pinning the men flat against the felt tables with military precision.
The room went dead, breathlessly silent.
The front double doors were pushed open by Luke.
Rolling through the threshold, wearing a custom black wool overcoat over his tailored suit, his broad shoulders squared, his storm-gray eyes holding an unshakeable, terrifying authority, was me.
Joey Vance stumbled backward against the wall, his face turning an ugly, mottled shade of paper-white as he recognized the man in the wheelchair.
"Hayes...?!" Joey stammered, his voice cracking into a high, frantic squeak. "Daniel Hayes...?! You're... you're supposed to be a hermit in Lake Forest!"
I rolled my chair to the head of the felt table, stopping three feet from him. I didn't draw a weapon. I didn't raise my voice. The sheer, freezing weight of my presence was enough to make the air in the room drop below zero.
"You followed my night cleaning girl to my front gates, Joey," I spoke, my baritone carrying cleanly across the silent lounge.
Joey’s jaw sagged open in total, horror-stricken panic. "The... the Carter girl?! She works for you?!"
"She doesn't just work for me, Joey," I revealed deadpan, every word dropped into the room like a slab of cold granite. "She is under the personal protection of the Hayes family. And forty minutes ago... my legal team acquired the primary mortgage bonds on every property owned by your loan shark network."
Luke dropped a thick leather folder flat onto the felt table in front of Joey.
"Your fifty-thousand-dollar predatory loan against the Carter family is officially canceled," Luke announced smoothly. "And if you, or any man belonging to Victor Moretti, sets foot within five miles of Emma Carter or her mother's facility..."
Luke pulled back his jacket, revealing the heavy silver sidearm tucked in his holster.
"...we won't send lawyers next time."
Joey Vance collapsed onto his knees flat on the dirty floorboards, his hands shaking frantically as he held them up in desperate surrender. "I swear on my mother's grave, Mr. Hayes! We're done! We'll never touch her! We'll stay away from her entire family!"
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I looked down at him with a look of profound, chilling disdain, before turning my wheelchair smoothly toward the exit.
"Tell Victor Moretti I said hello, Joey," I called back over my shoulder as Luke pushed the double doors open. "And tell him the monster is awake."
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