Chapter 7 - THE TURN OF THE TIDE
“You left this at my house, Bianca,” I said, holding up the gold watch.
The watch had a GPS tracker built into the casing.
Vincent had installed it years ago, a paranoid safety measure for his most prized possession. When Sal arrived at Clara's apartment, I gave him the watch's frequency.
Vincent's men didn't just follow me. They flanked the building.
Marco raised his weapon.
Before he could pull the trigger, Sal fired a warning shot into the ceiling.
Concrete dust rained down.
“Put it down, kid,” Sal growled. “You're outmanned and outgunned.”
Marco's men looked around, realizing they were surrounded by hardened veterans. Slowly, one by one, they lowered their weapons.
I walked past a trembling Bianca and went straight to Vincent.
I pulled a pocketknife from my coat and cut the thick ropes binding his wrists.
He slumped forward, catching himself on my shoulders.
“Ellie,” he wept into my coat. “You came for me.”
“I told you I'd never stop waiting, Vincent,” I whispered fiercely. “But I'm done waiting at home.”
I helped him stand.
He leaned heavily on me, his face bloody but his eyes suddenly filled with immense pride.
Bianca watched us, her chest heaving.
“You think this is over?” she cried. “My family still controls the ports! We'll hunt you forever!”
Vincent straightened up, wiping blood from his chin.
“No, you won't.”
He looked at Sal. “Did you bring it?”
Sal nodded and tossed a heavy, yellow manila envelope onto the floor at Bianca's feet.
“What is that?” Marco asked, stepping back.
“The deed to the waterfront,” Vincent said quietly. “And my formal resignation from the syndicate.”
The entire warehouse went silent.
Even Sal looked surprised.
“Vincent, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Ending it,” he said. He looked at me, his eyes clear and resolved. “I made a promise to protect my family. The only way to do that is to walk away completely. The Russos want power? They can have it.”
He looked back at Bianca.
“Take the ports. Take the territory. But if you ever come near my wife, my daughter, or my grandson again, my men will burn your empire to the ground.”
Bianca stared at the envelope.
It was everything she had fought for. Everything her father had died for.
She bent down and picked it up.
She looked at me. There was no victory in her eyes. Only the cold realization that she had sold her soul for a piece of paper, while I had kept my family.
“Go,” Bianca whispered, refusing to look at Vincent.
We walked toward the steel doors.
But just as we reached the threshold, Marco raised his gun again.
“I don't leave loose ends!” he screamed.
He aimed directly at Vincent's back.
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I didn't hesitate.
I pulled the heavy pistol from my pocket, turned, and fired.
