Chapter 8 - The Siege of Chicago
Forty-eight hours later.
A private Gulfstream jet touched down on the tarmac at Midway International Airport in Chicago under a gray, overcast sky.
I stepped off the mobile stairs, flanked by Arthur and twelve of my most trusted men—men who carried no badges, no fear, and no mercy.
I didn't hide my arrival. I had alerted the Chicago police commissioner—a man whose offshore bank accounts I had funded for a decade—that I was conducting private business in the city, and that any patrol cars sent to interfere would result in immediate political destruction.
At 3:00 PM, four black armored SUVs pulled up to the iron gates of the Moretti estate in Lake Forest.
The gate guards didn't even have time to raise their weapons. Arthur’s team breached the lock with explosive charges, the iron gates blowing inward with a deafening BOOM that echoed across the manicured lawns.
We marched through the grand front doors of the Moretti mansion.
Inside the cavernous, gold-leafed living room, Leo Moretti stood surrounded by six panicked bodyguards, holding a glass of whiskey that was shaking violently in his grip.
"Hale!" Leo yelled, stepping back toward his mahogany desk. "You're insane! You crossed state lines with armed men! The commission will destroy you for this!"
"The commission gave me their blessing an hour ago, Leo," I said smoothly, stepping into the room, my long wool coat swinging behind me. "When I showed them the ledgers proving you murdered Marco and embezzled fifty million from their shared accounts, they stripped you of your title."
Leo’s face drained of every drop of color. "What...?"
I gestured to Arthur.
In five seconds, the room was cleared. Leo’s bodyguards, recognizing that their boss was a dead man walking, laid down their weapons and walked out the side doors without firing a single shot.
Leo dropped to his knees on his expensive Persian rug, staring up at me with terrifying, pathetic eyes.
"Daniel... please!" Leo begged, raising his hands. "Take the eighty million! Take the trust fund! Just let me leave the country! I'll never mention Elena or the girl again!"
I walked over to his desk, picked up a heavy silver pen, and tossed a legal transfer document onto the table.
"Sign the trust back over to Sofia Moretti," I commanded softly. "Every cent. Every property. Every account."
Leo’s hands shook as he grabbed the pen, hurriedly signing his name on the dotted line. He looked up at me, gasping for air. "I signed it! It's done! Now let me go!"
May you like
I picked up the signed document, handed it to Arthur, and looked down at the man who had ordered the murder of a child.
"I promised Elena I wouldn't let you touch her daughter," I said, turning my back on him as I walked toward the exit. "Arthur... finish it."
