Chapter 13 - THE SHADOWS REMAIN
The autumn wind howled through the iron gates of the Moretti estate, carrying the chill of an early Chicago winter.
Inside the master study, the fire cracked loudly in the stone hearth.
Dominic sat behind his heavy oak desk, reviewing security logs with Marcus.
“The syndicate remnants in New York are quiet,” Marcus reported, tapping his tablet.
“No movement. They know if they cross state lines into our territory after what happened to Viktor, the Commission will wipe them out.”
“Good,” Dominic said coldly, signing a stack of legal documents without looking up.
“Keep the perimeter double-patrolled anyway. I don't take chances anymore.”
“Understood, boss.”
Marcus hesitated at the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Is there something else, Marcus?” Dominic asked, looking up.
“Well... there's a rumor circulating among the lower syndicates in the East District.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“What kind of rumor?”
“Word is, Vanessa managed to smuggle a final letter out of federal lockup before they transferred her to maximum security.”
Dominic's pen stopped moving across the paper.
“To whom?”
“To an old associate of her father's. A man named Arthur Vance—her uncle.”
Dominic stood up slowly, the temperature in the room dropping instantly.
“Arthur Vance died five years ago.”
“That's what everyone thought,” Marcus said grimly, handing the tablet over.
“Turns out he faked his death to avoid federal RICO charges. He's been operating out of Montreal the whole time. And according to our wire taps, he just crossed the border into Illinois yesterday.”
Dominic stared at the tablet screen.
A chill settled deep in his bones.
Arthur Vance wasn't just a white-collar criminal—he was a syndicate ghost, a ruthless strategist who made Vanessa look like an amateur.
And if he was in Chicago, he wasn't here to save his niece.
He was here to finish what she started.
“Where is Claire and Maisie?” Dominic demanded, his voice suddenly sharp as glass.
“They went into town with the security detail to pick up supplies for the weekend,” Marcus replied, his face paling.
“Downtown at the North Side boutique.”
Dominic grabbed his heavy black coat and his Beretta off the desk in a single fluid motion.
May you like
“Get the cars ready,” he snarled, sprinting toward the front doors.
“We're moving now.”
