Chapter 5 - THE ALLEY BEHIND CARBONE
The phone slipped from my fingers, clattering against the hardwood floor.
Lorenzo caught it before it slid under the desk. He read the screen, his jaw locking so tight I could see the muscle twitching beneath his skin.
“Mrs. Higgins,” I gasped, panic clawing at my throat. “She’s still at my apartment. Lorenzo, they’re going to hurt her.”
“Nobody is going to hurt her,” Lorenzo said. His voice was terrifyingly calm, the kind of calm that precedes an earthquake.
He pulled his own phone from his pocket and dialed a number.
“Marco,” Lorenzo said, his eyes never leaving mine. “I need a team at the Logan Square apartment. Now. Secure the elderly woman inside. If anyone wearing Victor Vance’s colors is within two blocks, break their legs.”
He hung up.
“I have to go,” I said, stepping toward the door. “He wants the key, Lorenzo. I’ll give it to him. I don’t care about the money or the deeds. I just want my family and my friends safe.”
Lorenzo blocked the doorway. He didn’t touch me, but his presence was an immovable wall.
“You are not handing over the only leverage we have to Victor Vance,” Lorenzo said.
“It’s my key!” I argued, my voice cracking. “It’s my father’s legacy, and I am choosing to trade it for a woman’s life.”
“Victor will not honor a trade, Grace,” Lorenzo said softly. “He is a scavenger. If you hand him that key, he will take the deeds, and then he will kill you and David to ensure there are no legal heirs to contest the transfer.”
“Then what do we do?” I pleaded, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes.
Lorenzo reached out and gently wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. The gesture was so tender, so entirely at odds with the violence of his world, that it made my breath hitch.
“We go to the alley,” Lorenzo said. “But we do it my way.”
Twenty-five minutes later, I was standing in the damp, dimly lit alley behind Carbone House.
The smell of discarded food and rain-slicked pavement filled the air. I was wearing Evelyn’s wool coat again, pulled tight against the chill.
The silver sparrow locket hung outside the coat, resting against the dark fabric.
I was completely alone.
At least, that was how it looked.
I knew Lorenzo was in the shadows. I knew his men had secured the perimeter. But standing by the dumpsters, waiting for my ex-husband, I had never felt more exposed.
A heavy metal door creaked open near the kitchen entrance.
Footsteps echoed on the wet asphalt.
David stepped into the dim light of the streetlamp.
He looked terrible. He was thinner than I remembered, his clothes wrinkled, his eyes darting around like a hunted animal.
“Grace,” David whispered, taking a step toward me.
“Stop right there,” I commanded, my voice surprisingly steady.
David stopped, holding his hands up defensively. “You brought it. Thank God, Grace. You have no idea what these people will do to me.”
“You traded my safety for your own,” I said, disgust dripping from every word. “You sent them to my apartment, David. Where Lily was sleeping.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” he pleaded, taking another step. “Victor was going to kill me. I just told him you had a necklace from your dad. I didn’t know it was the key until later. Please, Grace. Give it to me. Dennis is watching from the street.”
I touched the silver sparrow.
“Where is Dennis?” I asked.
Before David could answer, a new voice cut through the damp air.
“He’s right here, sweetheart.”
I spun around.
Dennis stepped out from behind a stack of wooden pallets, holding a sleek black handgun. He wasn’t wearing his manager’s suit. He was wearing a leather jacket, and the smug, authoritative look he wore in the dining room had been replaced by something cruel and desperate.
“Dennis,” I breathed.
“Victor sends his regards,” Dennis sneered. He pointed the gun at David first, making my ex-husband whimper, then aimed it directly at my chest. “Take the necklace off, Grace. Toss it on the ground.”
I didn’t move.
Dennis cocked the gun. “I’m not asking, waitress.”
“Actually,” a voice echoed from the darkness above them. “You aren’t doing anything at all.”
Dennis froze.
From the shadows of the fire escape directly above Dennis, Lorenzo dropped down onto the pavement. He landed silently, a predator descending on its prey.
Before Dennis could swing the gun, Lorenzo’s hand shot out, gripping Dennis’s wrist with a sickening crack.
Dennis screamed, dropping the weapon.
Lorenzo didn’t stop. He kicked the back of Dennis’s knee, dropping the man to the ground, and pinned him to the wet asphalt with a heavy, polished Oxford shoe pressing directly into Dennis’s throat.
David shrieked and turned to run.
Two massive men in dark suits stepped out of the shadows at the end of the alley, blocking his escape.
Silence descended on the alley, broken only by Dennis’s gurgling gasps for air.
Lorenzo looked at me. He was completely unharmed, breathing evenly, perfectly tailored.
“Are you alright?” Lorenzo asked quietly.
I nodded, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Lorenzo looked down at Dennis.
“You made a mistake, Dennis,” Lorenzo whispered, pressing his shoe down just enough to make the man choke. “You threatened a woman under my protection. And you did it on my property.”
Dennis gagged, clawing at Lorenzo’s leg. “Victor… Victor won’t let you get away with this. He has the bank. He has the law.”
Lorenzo smiled. It was a terrifying, hollow expression.
“Victor Vance doesn’t have anything,” Lorenzo said softly. “Because ten minutes ago, while you were waiting in this alley, my mother made a phone call.”
Lorenzo pulled Dennis up by his jacket collar, hauling him to his knees.
“Look at your phone, Dennis,” Lorenzo commanded.
Trembling, Dennis reached into his pocket with his unbroken hand and pulled out his phone. The screen was lit up with dozens of missed calls and frantic text messages.
Dennis read the screen, and the color completely drained from his face.
“What?” Dennis whispered. “That’s impossible.”
I stepped forward, unable to hold back. “What did Evelyn do?”
Lorenzo looked at me, the terrifying mob boss vanishing, replaced by a look of deep, profound respect.
“My mother called the federal banking commission,” Lorenzo said smoothly. “She anonymously submitted thirty pages of Victor’s illegal ledgers. The Feds raided Victor’s house five minutes ago.”
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Lorenzo leaned down until his face was inches from Dennis’s.
“Victor is in handcuffs,” Lorenzo whispered. “Your uncle’s empire is gone. And if you ever come within ten miles of Grace or her family again, the Feds will be the absolute least of your problems.”
