Chapter 5 - The Snake's Venom
The arrest of Helen Vance was a major victory, but Cassian knew the battle was far from over. Helen was merely a pawn; Dominic Marcone was the hand holding the knife.
That afternoon, while Clara rested inside Victoria Sterling’s high-security legal suite, Cassian sat in the back of his armored sedan parked in an underground garage on LaSalle Street. Beside him sat Marcus, his chief of intelligence.
"Marcone is desperate, boss," Marcus reported, holding a tablet displaying encrypted satellite communications. "When Helen was arrested, his illegal weapon shipments through Arthur Vance’s old freight docks were completely frozen by the Coast Guard. He lost twelve million dollars in single hour."
"Has he made a move toward the penthouse?" Cassian asked.
"No," Marcus answered, adjusting his glasses. "He knows your estate is a fortress. But we picked up chatter from his inner circle. He's hiring external contractors—unaffiliated mercenaries from out of state. He knows if he doesn't kill you and Clara by midnight, your legal team will take full possession of the docks and hand his entire smuggling ring over to the DoJ."
Cassian stared out the dark window of the sedan. "He won't attack the penthouse. Marcone is a coward who prefers soft targets. Where is Clara’s father buried?"
Marcus paused, looking at his screen. "Oak Ridge Cemetery. In Hillside. Clara mentioned she wanted to visit his grave after the hearing today."
Cassian’s eyes narrowed into slits of ice. "Send three extra tactical teams to Hillside immediately. Set a perimeter. Marcone thinks he’s hunting a girl. He’s about to realize he walked into a slaughterhouse."
Meanwhile, back at the legal suite, Clara stood near the window, looking down at the snow falling over the city. She held a small silver locket her father had given her on her tenth birthday—the only personal item Helen hadn't managed to sell.
Victoria Sterling walked in, holding a fresh glass of orange juice. "You did very well today, Clara. Your father would be immensely proud of you."
"I just wish I could tell him," Clara said quietly. "I haven't been able to visit his grave since he died. Helen wouldn't let me leave the diner on his funeral day."
Victoria’s expression softened with deep empathy. "Cassian has already arranged a private escort to take you to Oak Ridge Cemetery this afternoon. He wants you to have your peace, Clara."
Clara smiled softly, a feeling of warmth spreading through her chest. For years, she had believed the world was an unforgiving, hostile place where power only existed to crush the weak. But in twenty-four hours, Cassian Ror had shown her that true power could be a shield—a wall built around the helpless to keep the monsters at bay.
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"Why is he doing all this for me, Victoria?" Clara asked softly. "My father was just one of his employees fifteen years ago."
Victoria looked at Clara with a knowing, gentle smile. "Your father saved Cassian’s life during the harbor union riots in 2011, Clara. Cassian never forgets a debt. But more than that... when he looked at you in that alley yesterday, he didn't just see Arthur’s daughter. He saw a soul that refused to let the cruelty of this world make her cruel."
