Chapter 6 - The War for Chicago
By Monday morning, the city of Chicago was in a state of economic gridlock.
The Hale Corporation's flagship project—a sixty-story luxury residential tower downtown—stood completely silent. The massive cranes were stationary against the gray sky. Hundreds of union workers stood outside the gates, refusing to cross the invisible line drawn by the Vale organization.
Richard Hale tried to fight back. He called in favors from the governor's office, demanded federal intervention, and attempted to hire non-union crews from out of state. But every trucking company that agreed to carry his materials found their vehicles plagued by "sudden mechanical failures" at the city borders.
"He’s fighting hard, boss," Victor reported in Dominic’s private study in Lake Forest. "He’s trying to sell off his shares in the suburban developments to raise quick cash to pay off his loans. If he gets that money, he might buy enough time to outlast our blockade."
Dominic sat behind his desk, holding a cup of black coffee. Elena sat across from him, reading through the financial reports of the Hale Corporation. Over the weekend, she had traded her waitress uniform for a sharp, tailored blazer. Her shaved head was completely uncovered, a bold statement of her survival and her strength.
"He can't sell those shares if no one is allowed to buy them," Elena said, looking up from the documents.
Dominic looked at her, a look of pride crossing his features. "What are you thinking, El?"
"The main buyer for his suburban shares is Vanguard Holdings," Elena explained, pointing to a line in the contract. "Vanguard is owned by a consortium of local investors. Two of those investors are the very men who were sitting at Table Twelve with Preston—Grant Whitaker’s father and Nolan Pierce's uncle. They’re trying to bail Richard out to save their own families from your wrath."
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Dominic leaned back, his eyes narrowing. "Then we pay a visit to the Whitaker and Pierce families. If they want to share Richard’s grave, I’m happy to dig it wider."
"No," Elena said, standing up and leaning over the desk. "Let me do it. They think I'm just a girl from the South Side who got lucky. Let me show them exactly who runs this family's assets."
