Chapter 4: The Shadow of Chicago
By the time the sun rose over the Boston Harbor, the financial district was in a state of chaotic frenzy. Three of the oldest, most prestigious families in the city had been utterly wiped off the economic board within six hours. The papers were calling it the "Midnight Massacre of State Street," but none of the journalists could find the source of the strike. The names of the Ashford, Mercer, and Calloway families were being scrubbed from museum wings and university halls before the first bell of the trading day even rang.
At the Brookline estate, Maren was sitting up in bed, looking at the breakfast tray Damien’s chef had prepared for her. Her face had regained its soft, natural color, and the thin gold chain around her neck caught the morning light.
The double doors opened, and Damien walked in, his expression softening the moment his eyes landed on her. He walked to the side of the bed and sat down, leaning over to kiss her cheek softly.
"How is the baby?" he asked, his hand moving automatically to her belly.
"Slowing down," she smiled, her fingers intertwining with his. "Dr. Thorne says my blood pressure has returned to normal. He says I can walk around the garden today if I stay wrapped up."
The Viral Threat
Her smile faded as she looked at the television screen on the wall, which was currently showing a breaking news report about the sudden collapse of Ashford Capital. "You did this, didn't you?"
"I leveled the playing field, Maren," Damien said gently. "They used their money as a weapon against you. I simply took their weapon away."
"But it’s not just them, Damien," she said, her voice dropping into a worried whisper. "If you made this much noise in Boston... what about Chicago? What about the people who tried to kill you? If they see you here, if they see me..."
Before Damien could answer, Mikhail knocked sharply on the doorframe. His face was uncharacteristically grim. "Sir. We have an issue. The digital sweep discovered that before we could suppress Chloe Ashford’s phone data, the video of Maren was copied to a private cloud server owned by a third party."
Damien’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure ice. "Who owned the server?"
"A shell company registered in Cook County, Illinois," Mikhail replied, his hand tightening on his tablet. "It’s Vincent Hale’s network. The video was transmitted to the remaining members of the Moretti syndicate three hours ago. They know Maren is alive. They know she’s carrying your heir."
Maren felt her heart stop. The cold terror that had driven her across three states seven months ago came rushing back, suffocating and heavy. She gripped Damien’s hand so tightly her nails bit into his skin. "They’re coming for us, aren't they?"
May you like
Damien stood up slowly, but he didn't look afraid. He looked like a king who had finally been given permission to wage total war. He reached down, took the diamond ring from the nightstand, and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
"Let them come," Damien said, his voice carrying the weight of an entire empire. "They think they are dealing with the man who ran away seven months ago to protect his territory. They don't realize I am now a father who has a kingdom to defend. I wiped out three families in Boston for touching you, Maren. For the Morettis... I will burn down the entire state of Illinois."
