Chapter 4 - THE VEST AND THE BURNER PHONE
The blood-soaked tactical vest landed on the concrete with a heavy, sickening thud.
Nico stared at it, the breath leaving his lungs in a sharp, horrified gasp. The color completely drained from his face. He stopped struggling against the man holding him, his knees buckling slightly as the reality of Dominic’s words slammed into him.
“No,” Nico whispered, shaking his head slowly. “No, you’re lying. He’s not dead.”
Dominic Bellini casually adjusted the cuffs of his pristine white suit, looking entirely unbothered by the violence surrounding him.
“He put up a good fight, I’ll admit,” Dominic said, stepping closer to Nico. “Took down six of my men in the kitchen alone. But nobody survives a twenty-on-one firefight, kid. Not even the great Luca Moretti.”
I pressed my back against the wooden crates, my hands covering my mouth to muffle my own terrified sobs. Luca was dead. The man who had gently smiled at me over chocolate chip cookies just two days ago had been gunned down in his own home.
“Why?” Nico choked out, tears streaming down his face as he stared at his father’s ruined vest. “Why did you do this? Vanessa lost your money! My dad didn't owe you anything!”
Dominic laughed. It was a cold, grating sound that echoed in the cavernous warehouse.
“You think this is about the two hundred thousand dollars your pathetic stepmother lost in my hedge fund?” Dominic sneered. “That’s pocket change, Nicholas. This is about Chicago. Your father controlled the shipping ports. My Russian associates want those ports. We’ve been trying to find a weakness in his organization for years.”
He smiled cruelly.
“And then, Vanessa handed us the perfect opportunity. She told us Luca was distracted, fighting with his only son. She gave us the security codes to the estate to protect herself, completely unaware she was opening the door for a coup.”
Nico’s jaw tightened. The grief in his eyes hardened into something terrifying. Something that looked exactly like his father.
“If my dad is dead, the syndicate isn't yours,” Nico spat, his voice dropping to a low, lethal register. “The captains will never fall in line behind a Russian puppet.”
“You’re right,” Dominic nodded smoothly. “They wouldn't. Which is why you are going to tell them to stand down.”
Nico let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m helping you.”
“Oh, I think you will,” Dominic smiled, pulling a sleek, black burner phone from his pocket. “Because if you don't call the captains and order a peaceful transition of power, I am going to have my men pay a visit to your lovely housekeeper, Claire. I believe she has a younger sister attending college at Northwestern?”
My heart stopped beating entirely.
“Don't you dare touch them!” Nico roared, surging forward violently.
The man holding him brutally drove a knee into Nico’s stomach, dropping him to the concrete. Nico gasped for air, curling in on himself as the man aimed the suppressed pistol at his head.
“Sign the transfer papers, Nicholas, and make the calls,” Dominic ordered coldly. “Or the girl and her sister die tonight.”
I couldn't stay hidden. I couldn't let Nico surrender his father’s entire empire to save my life.
I looked around frantically in the dark. My eyes landed on a heavy, rusted iron crowbar resting against the wooden crates next to me.
I grabbed it. It was incredibly heavy, my hands shaking violently as I gripped the cold metal. I wasn't a fighter. I was twenty-nine years old and my biggest daily stress was making sure the silver was polished without streaks.
But I thought of my sister, studying in her dorm room, completely unaware of the monsters hunting her. I thought of Nico, crying over his father’s bloody vest.
I stepped out from behind the crates.
I didn't scream. I didn't announce myself.
I sprinted across the concrete floor, closing the fifty yards in absolute, terrifying silence.
The man holding the gun to Nico’s head was focused entirely on the young man on the floor. Dominic was looking at his phone.
I swung the heavy iron crowbar with every ounce of strength I had in my body.
The iron connected with the back of the gunman’s knee with a sickening, bone-crunching crack.
The man roared in agony, his leg buckling instantly. He collapsed sideways, his pistol clattering across the concrete floor.
Dominic spun around, his eyes widening in absolute shock as the housekeeper swung the crowbar a second time, smashing it directly into his ribs.
Dominic gasped, stumbling backward and dropping his phone.
“Nico, run!” I screamed, grabbing his arm and violently hauling him to his feet.
Nico didn't hesitate. He grabbed the dropped pistol off the floor, his hands shaking, but his aim steady as he pointed it at Dominic.
“Keys. Now,” Nico demanded, his voice cracking with adrenaline.
Dominic, clutching his bruised ribs, glared at us with pure, unadulterated hatred. But he reached into his pocket and tossed a set of car keys onto the floor.
Nico grabbed them. He kept the gun trained on Dominic as we backed away slowly into the dark warehouse.
“You’re dead, kid!” Dominic shouted after us. “You hear me? You have nowhere to run! My men are sweeping the city!”
We didn't answer. We turned and sprinted toward the loading docks at the back of the warehouse. A sleek, black luxury sedan was parked near the exit—Dominic’s car.
Nico unlocked it, throwing himself into the driver’s seat. I scrambled into the passenger side, locking the doors instantly.
Nico hit the ignition, the powerful engine roaring to life. He slammed the car into gear and tore out of the warehouse, crashing through the chain-link gate and speeding out onto the desolate, rainy streets of the industrial district.
We drove in terrified silence for ten minutes, the only sound the frantic beating of the windshield wipers.
Nico gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Tears were streaming silently down his face, illuminated by the passing streetlights.
“Nico,” I whispered softly, my heart breaking for him. “I’m so sorry.”
“He’s dead, Claire,” Nico choked out, a sob finally escaping his throat. “He’s really gone.”
“We don't know that for sure,” I argued desperately, though looking at the amount of blood that had been on that vest, I knew it was a lie.
“They had his vest,” Nico wept, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “He would never take that off in a firefight unless he was dead. I left him there. I ran away and left him to die.”
“He ordered you to leave!” I said firmly, reaching over and placing my hand over his on the steering wheel. “He wanted you safe. That was his only priority.”
Nico shook his head, unable to speak through his tears. He glanced down at the silver watch on his wrist, the one his father had fastened there just hours ago.
He took a ragged breath, trying to compose himself.
“We have to get out of the city,” Nico said, his voice trembling but gaining a shred of resolve. “If Dominic is calling the shots, the syndicate captains won't know who to trust. They might think I set my dad up to take over early.”
“Where do we go?” I asked.
“I have a buddy from high school who lives in Milwaukee,” Nico said, checking the rearview mirror constantly. “We can lay low there until I can figure out how to contact my dad’s loyal men.”
He reached for the center console, looking for a charging cable for his phone.
As he flipped the compartment open, a small, black object caught my eye.
It was Dominic’s burner phone. I must have grabbed it off the floor when I picked up the car keys.
“Nico, wait,” I said, picking up the phone.
“Throw it out the window,” Nico panicked. “It has a GPS tracker in it. They can find us.”
“I will, just give me a second,” I said, swiping the screen awake. It didn't have a passcode.
I opened the text messages, desperate for any information about the attack on the estate.
There was only one message thread. The contact name was simply V.
Vanessa.
I read the last message Dominic had sent her, time-stamped just twenty minutes ago.
The old man is dead. The kid is next. Meet me at the extraction point with the package.
My blood ran cold.
“Nico,” I whispered, staring at the screen.
“What is it?” he asked urgently.
“Dominic texted Vanessa,” I said, my voice shaking. “He told her your dad is dead. And he told her to meet him with ‘the package’.”
Nico frowned, glancing at the phone. “What package?”
Before I could answer, a new message popped onto the screen. A reply from Vanessa.
May you like
I read it aloud, my heart completely stopping.
“I’m at the extraction point. The package is secure. But Luca wasn't the only one wearing a vest tonight. One of your men shot the body double.”
