Chapter 3 - Shadows Over Pilsen
While Clara slept in a plush guest bedroom under heavy down comforters, the underworld of Chicago was already reacting to the tremor caused by Cassian’s sudden intervention in Pilsen.
Inside a dimly lit, smoke-filled backroom of a nightclub on Cermak Road, Helen Vance sat trembling in a vinyl booth. Across from her sat Dominic Marcone—a broad-shouldered man with slicked-back gray hair, wearing a pinstripe suit and a heavy gold signet ring on his pinky finger.
"You let Cassian Ror take the girl?" Dominic asked, his voice low, gravelly, and laced with lethality.
"He had six armed men, Dominic!" Helen whined, clutching a glass of cheap gin with shaking hands. "He had armored cars! He took the dog, too! He knew about the K9 unit! He knew about the trust!"
Dominic leaned forward, smashing his cigar into an ashtray. "You stupid, greedy old witch. I told you to keep that girl quiet until her twenty-fifth birthday next month! Once she turned twenty-five, we could have legally signed her estate over to my front company and disposed of her silently! Now Cassian has her in his penthouse!"
"Can't you just send your men to get her back?" Helen pleaded. "She’s weak! She doesn't know anything! She’s terrified of her own shadow!"
"Cassian Ror isn't terrified of anything," Dominic growled, standing up and buttoning his coat. "Fifteen years ago, he wiped out the O’Malley crew in one night because they intercepted one of his supply shipments. If he finds out that you and I used Arthur Vance’s freight company to smuggle unregistered weapons for my organization, he won't just sue us. He’ll bury us under six feet of reinforced concrete."
"What... what do we do?" Helen whimpered.
"We strike first," Dominic said, pulling a dark satellite phone from his pocket. "Cassian thinks this is about a helpless girl and a lost dog. He doesn't know we’ve already placed a mole inside his legal department. Tomorrow morning, when his lawyers take Clara to the federal courthouse to review her father's original will, we take them both out."
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Helen’s face twisted into a cruel, desperate smile. "Make sure she suffers, Dominic. She gave my food to that damned stray. She needs to learn her lesson."
Dominic looked at Helen with absolute disgust. "You're a sick woman, Helen. But as long as you sign the authorization papers transferring Arthur's freight licenses to me tonight, I'll make sure the girl never speaks again."
