Chapter 12 - The Trap At The River North Gallery
The art gallery in River North—the very place where Gabriel and I had first met seven years ago under false pretenses—was closed for a private evening exhibition. The soft, golden track lighting illuminated impressionist canvases and bronze sculptures, casting long, elegant shadows across the polished concrete floors. But tonight, there was no art being celebrated here. I stood alone near the center gallery room, my hands clasped behind my back, waiting. The heavy glass front doors clicked open, and the subtle chime of the security bell echoed through the cavernous space. Isabella Romano walked in, wearing an emerald-green silk dress that eerily mirrored the one I wore the night she tried to take my place at Sunday dinner. Behind her stood two burly enforcers from the New York syndicate, their hands resting ominously inside their heavy overcoats. Isabella stopped a few feet away, a triumphant, venomous smirk twisting her painted lips. “Well, look at you, Claire,” Isabella mocked, her voice echoing off the brick walls. “Playing boss of the Chicago underworld. You look ridiculous wearing a crown that was never yours to inherit.” I turned slowly to face her, my expression entirely impassive. “You walked into my city, Isabella, believing you could manipulate a dying man's legacy and erase a marriage built on decades of loyalty. You miscalculated from the very beginning.” Isabella laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. “Gabriel is rotting in a federal holding facility because of your little betrayal, but his friends in New York don't care about federal holding facilities. They care about control of the shipping ports. And tonight, you are going to sign over the charter rights, or these men will burn this gallery—and everything you love—to the ground.” She pulled a folded legal document from her clutch and threw it onto a nearby pedestal. I didn't flinch. Instead, I raised my right hand and gave a single, deliberate signal toward the overhead architectural rafters. Suddenly, the gallery doors locked with a resounding, automated thud. From behind the large exhibition panels and the upper loft stairwells, Marcus and a dozen armed security enforcers stepped out, their weapons leveled directly at Isabella and her men. Color drained instantly from Isabella's face as she realized the hunter had just become the prey.
