Chapter 3 - The Menace Awakens
The rain was coming down in sheets over the Ravensport docks, beating against the rusted metal roofs of the abandoned shipping warehouses.
Inside Warehouse 4, a single overhead lamp swung back and forth on a frayed wire, casting long, swaying shadows across the slick concrete floor. Tied to a heavy steel chair in the center of the room was Julian Vance. His nose was broken, his expensive leather jacket ruined by dirt and blood, and his eyes wild with frantic terror.
Standing in front of him were four of Dominic Vale’s enforcers, all armed, silent as statues.
The heavy wooden doors of the warehouse slid open, admitting a gust of freezing wind and rain. Dominic Vale stepped inside, flanked by Marco. Dominic wore a long black wool coat over his open-collared shirt, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He walked with a slow, unhurried pace that was infinitely more terrifying than a sprint.
"Vale!" Julian screamed, spit flying from his lips as he thrashing against his leather bindings. "You can't do this to me! I work with Don Moretti! I'm under Moretti’s protection! If you touch me, Moretti will start a blood feud!"
Dominic stopped three feet away from the tied man. He didn't look angry; his face was a mask of cold, absolute detachment.
"Don Moretti owes me four million dollars for smuggling rights through the north channel," Dominic said softly, his voice echoing off the corrugated iron walls. "Do you truly believe he cares about a pathetic loan shark parasite like you?"
Julian’s breath hitched, panic flickering in his eyes. "Listen... listen to me, Vale! This is about Claire, isn't it? That fat, worthless bitch ran to you, didn't she? She’s a liar! She owes me money! I was just taking back what’s mine!"
The moment the insult left Julian’s mouth, Marco stepped forward to smash his fist into the man's face, but Dominic held up a single hand. Marco stopped instantly.
Dominic slowly pulled his hands from his coat pockets. He walked right up to Julian, leaning down until his eyes were inches from Julian’s face.
"You made a critical mistake, Vance," Dominic whispered, his tone so dark it chilled the air in the warehouse. "You looked at a diamond and thought it was glass. You thought because she was gentle, she was weak. And you thought because she was alone, no one would protect her."
Dominic reached out, taking hold of Julian’s right wrist—the same wrist Julian had used to strike Claire. With a sudden, terrifyingly effortless motion, Dominic twisted.
A sickening CRACK echoed through the warehouse, followed instantly by Julian’s blood-curdling scream of agony.
"That is for her face," Dominic said plainly, his voice entirely steady as Julian wept and gagged from the pain of his broken wrist.
Dominic stepped back, taking a linen handkerchief from his pocket and meticulously wiping his hands.
"You are going to sign over every piece of paper you have on her," Dominic commanded coldness radiating from him. "Her apartment lease, her debts, every record of her existence in your life. Then you are going to get on a cargo ship heading to South America tonight. If you ever set foot on the eastern seaboard again... if you ever breathe her name again... I will not break your wrist. I will feed you to the bottom-feeders in this bay piece by piece. Do you understand me?"
"Yes! Yes! I promise! I swear to God!" Julian sobbed, his head hanging low, tears and blood dripping onto his chest. "I’ll sign! Just let me live!"
Marco tossed a pen and a stack of legal documents onto a crate in front of the broken man.
Dominic turned his back on Julian, walking toward the warehouse exit. "Put him on the freighter to Bogota, Marco. Make sure he doesn't have a penny in his pockets."
"Right away, Boss," Marco replied. "And what about Don Moretti? He’s been sniffing around the southern border of our territory all week. He might use Vance’s disappearance as an excuse to push."
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Dominic paused at the doorway, looking out at the dark, rain-swept harbor. The fire in his chest, sparked by the sight of Claire’s bruises, had not died down—it had merely transformed into a steady, burning flame.
"Let Moretti push," Dominic said, a cold, ruthless smile touching his lips. "I’ve been looking for a reason to take his docks anyway. Now I have one."
