Chapter 4 - [THE ROSARY ON THE FLOORBOARDS]
The black SUV tore through the slick, rain-soaked streets of Chicago’s South Side.
Dominic drove with terrifying precision, the engine roaring as he ran two red lights. Claire sat in the passenger seat, her hands gripped tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on the wet windshield.
“Call her again,” Dominic ordered.
Claire pressed the phone to her ear. “It’s going straight to voicemail. She always answers, Mr. Bellini. Always.”
“Dominic,” he corrected her quietly, keeping his eyes on the road. “Call me Dominic.”
They skidded to a halt in front of a rundown, brick apartment building. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, grim shadows.
Claire didn't wait for him to park. She threw the door open and sprinted up the concrete steps. Dominic was right behind her, his hand resting on the holster concealed beneath his jacket.
They reached the third floor. Apartment 3B.
Claire’s heart stopped.
The door was slightly ajar. The deadbolt had been violently kicked in, the wood splintered around the frame.
“Mom!” Claire screamed, pushing the door open.
The small apartment was in shambles. The coffee table was overturned. A teacup lay shattered against the kitchen linoleum, tea still pooling on the floor.
But the apartment was empty. Margaret Dawson was gone.
Claire collapsed to her knees in the center of the living room, a broken sob escaping her chest. “No. No, they took her. She can't fight back, Dominic. She can't even make a fist!”
Dominic stepped into the room, his eyes scanning every inch of the chaos. He didn't offer empty comforts. He assessed the scene like the predator he was trained to be.
He walked over to the overturned coffee table.
He crouched down. Resting near the leg of the table was a small, heavy object.
Dominic picked it up.
It was a silver rosary, the beads carved from black onyx. The cross was slightly bent.
“This isn't your mother’s, is it?” Dominic asked, holding it up.
Claire wiped her eyes, shaking her head. “No. My mother isn't Catholic. We don't own a rosary.”
Dominic’s grip tightened around the silver cross. He knew exactly who owned it.
“It belongs to Marcus Gallo,” Dominic said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Victor’s personal enforcer. He’s highly religious. He never works without this in his pocket.”
Claire stood up, her fear morphing into desperate anger. “Where would he take her?”
Before Dominic could answer, his cell phone vibrated in his coat pocket.
He pulled it out. Unknown number.
He answered it, putting it on speaker so Claire could hear.
“Dominic,” a raspy, calm voice echoed through the phone. Marcus Gallo.
“If she’s bleeding, Marcus, I will spend the next week keeping you alive just to hurt you,” Dominic said.
Marcus chuckled darkly. “She’s breathing. For now. Victor missed his check-in. I assume he’s enjoying the hospitality of your basement.”
“Let the woman go,” Dominic demanded. “This is between me and Victor.”
“Not anymore,” Marcus replied. “Victor promised me a massive payout if this ever went sideways. And I know exactly how he planned to fund it. The locker at Union Station.”
Claire gasped silently.
“You have the ticket, Dominic,” Marcus continued. “I have the tailor’s woman. Bring the ticket to the old rail yard on 47th Street in one hour. Come alone. If I see headlights, I put a bullet in her head.”
The line went dead.
Claire looked at Dominic, absolute terror in her eyes. “We have to go. We have to give him the ticket!”
Dominic looked down at the faded piece of paper in his hand. He shook his head slowly.
“No,” Dominic said.
Claire stared at him, betrayed. “What do you mean, no? He has my mother!”
“If I walk into that rail yard and hand him this ticket, he will shoot us both and walk away rich,” Dominic explained, his eyes locking onto hers. “Marcus is a mercenary. The only way to negotiate with a mercenary is to hold something he wants.”
“But he wants the ticket!”
May you like
“He wants what’s inside the locker,” Dominic corrected. “We aren't going to the rail yard, Claire. We are going to Union Station. We are going to find out exactly what Victor has been hiding for seventeen years, and we are going to use it to buy your mother’s life.”
TITLE: THE BRACELET IN THE LOCKER
