Chapter 7 - A Father's Wrath
Back at the Vale estate, nine-year-old Leo was doing his homework in the study when he saw his father return home.
Dominic walked through the front doors, taking off his gloves, looking exhausted. "Leo? Where's Nora?"
Leo frowned, holding up a piece of paper he had found on the desk. "She left a note, Dad. She said her mother called in trouble, and she went to the South Side docks with Marco's team."
Dominic took the paper. As his eyes read Nora's handwriting, his face drained of all color, replacing it with an expression of pure, unadulterated hellfire.
He reached for his phone, dialing his security chief. "Where is SUV three?"
"Boss... SUV three's GPS tracker just went dead near the South Side grain silos. No one is responding to comms!"
Dominic dropped the phone onto the desk. A roar of absolute, feral rage ripped from his chest. He slammed his fist into the oak desk, snapping the thick wood in half.
Leo jumped back, terrified. "Dad? What happened to Mom?!"
Dominic stopped. He turned around, looking at his eldest son. The boy had called her Mom. The word echoed through the silent room like a holy war cry.
Dominic dropped to one knee, gripping Leo's shoulders firmly. "Your mother was ambushed, Leo. Her parents set a trap for her."
Leo's eyes filled with hot, furious tears. He grabbed Dominic's shirt. "Bring her back, Dad! Please! Don't let them hurt Mom!"
Julian, Mateo, and Mia ran into the room, sensing the terror in the air. Julian grabbed Dominic's hand, his small voice echoing clearly: "Bring Mom home, Papa."
Dominic stood up, his dark eyes burning with a lethal flame that would consume the entire city of Chicago.
"I will bring her home," Dominic swore to his four children. "And I will make sure no one ever touches our family again."
Within twenty minutes, the entire North Side syndicate was mobilized. Fifty black armored trucks carrying over two hundred heavily armed Vale soldiers poured out of the estate gates. Helicopters roared to life in the sky, lighting up the night over Lake Michigan.
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Dominic sat in the command vehicle, donning a tactical vest, racking the slide of his custom rifle. Beside him, his top lieutenants watched in awe. Dominic Vale was no longer just a mob boss conducting business—he was a father and a husband going to war for his queen.
"Find Cal Mercer," Dominic commanded through the tactical comms. "Find Grant and Diane Hayes. Leave no survivors."
