Chapter 4 - The Interrogation
By 3:00 AM, the estate had been cleaned, the power was restored, and a private medical team led by Dr. Mercer—our family’s personal physician—was tending to Elena in the guest wing. She had been diagnosed with severe pneumonia, but with intravenous antibiotics and proper care, Dr. Mercer assured me she would make a full recovery within a week.
Zoe sat in the spacious armchair in the guest room, wearing clean pajamas, munching on a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies that the night chef had prepared for her. Her little teddy bear sat beside her, looking much cleaner after one of the maids had spot-cleaned its fur.
I stood near the door, watching her. For years, I had viewed my home as a fortress—a cold, impenetrable structure built to withstand sieges and organize criminal enterprises. But watching this small girl happily eating cookies in the middle of the night made the vast house feel strangely different. Warmer.
Leaving two armed guards outside her door, I took the elevator down to the soundproof basement facility beneath our urban operations center in downtown Chicago.
The room smelled of damp cement and iron. Marcus was strapped to a heavy steel chair beneath a single overhead bulb, his shoulder bandaged tightly, his face pale from blood loss. Viktor stood nearby, holding a thick file folder.
When the heavy steel door closed behind me, Marcus lifted his head. The arrogance he had displayed in the foyer was completely gone, replaced by the grim realization of what happened to traitors in the Romano family.
"Vincent..." Marcus rasped, his throat dry. "Please... we were brothers for eight years..."
"Brothers don't sell out their families for a payout, Marcus," I said softly, sitting on a wooden chair opposite him. "You put a target on a six-year-old girl and her mother just to clean up your mess."
Marcus swallowed hard, looking away. "It was just business. The Valettis... they offered me five million dollars and a safe house in South America. They said you were getting soft. They said you were spending too much time securing legal shipping contracts instead of taking back the docks."
"The Valettis," I repeated, feeling the pieces of the puzzle lock into place.
The Valetti family had been our quietest rivals for the last decade, operating out of North Chicago. Their old boss had died six months ago, leaving his ambitious, reckless son, Julian Valetti, in control. Julian had always been impatient, eager to expand his territory before he had the strength to hold it.
"Julian thinks he can take Chicago by cutting off the head of the Romano family," I murmured, taking the file from Viktor. "He hired you to disable my security, clear the house, and let his hit squad handle the rest."
"Yes!" Marcus choked out. "Julian has two more teams stationed at the river warehouse. They were waiting for my confirmation signal that you were dead before launching strikes on your distribution centers!"
I stood up, closing the folder. "Did Julian know about the child?"
Marcus paused, flickering with hesitation. "He... he told me to eliminate anyone in the house. He said no loose ends."
I looked down at the man who had sat at my dinner table, who had guarded my back in high-stakes meetings, and who had been willing to murder a child for a briefcase full of cartel money.
"Viktor," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Transfer all of Marcus's assets to Elena Williams's trust fund. Every house, every bank account, every vehicle he owns now belongs to her and her daughter."
May you like
Marcus’s eyes widened in horror. "Vincent, no! That’s my life savings!"
"You don't need a life savings where you're going," I said plainly. I turned to walk out the door. "Hand him over to the federal authorities anonymously along with the evidence of his wire fraud and smuggling operations. Let him spend the next forty years in a concrete box thinking about the shoes he tried to ruin."
